


Time of Nine

by FarpointCosplay



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gas Station AU, Human Characters, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarpointCosplay/pseuds/FarpointCosplay
Summary: In a particular universe, there is a gas station. Kira with Odo at her side are doing their best to run it to Sisko's satisfaction; Doctor Bashir rarely misses a regular visit and a chat with his favourite part-time employee, while the mysterious man always seems to follow him as a shadow. They're a family, together facing trouble, crime, corruption; and at worst - their own feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is an alternate reality set in 21st century. All characters are human. Because there is never enough of ridiculous AUs !! (Which become intense and deep and destroy your life)
> 
> We don't own Star Trek or any characters and despite the story takes place in the USA, all mentioned places are fictional.
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy this collaborative story and we appreciate all feedback! 
> 
> Remember, feedback is the only way of letting the writers know that their stories are read and enjoyed & they don't lose the enthusiasm and willingness to keep writing.

After an exhausting Tuesday afternoon, full of overwhelming paperwork and irritating phone calls, particularly with Senator Dukat, Mr. Sisko only wished to call it a day already. When he got into his car, finding out the left car light went out, he sighed and remembered Dukat's new statement about petroleum. He was entirely sure the man did all he could to see Sisko's business bankrupt. Before he started the car, he sent a text message to manager Kira, informing her about his arrival. This was not one of the surprise visits, he would be too concerned to what disaster he would arrive this time. No, all he wanted was his cup of raktajino and someone to make minor repairs to his car. So he set off to the station, late, but still early enough to make it to Jake's recitation, he assured himself.

On the gas station _Nine_ , the door of the office burst open; the man behind the counter snatched handful of what appeared to be bribes from a man on the other side (who then left suspiciously) and faced the manager with his business-as-usual facade. The engineer, kneeling in a puddle of scrap by a peeling-off wall, stopped drilling at once. They knew the determined, strict look on the manager's face; Sisko was coming. They had 18 minutes to get things ready and fixed.

Thick pairs of red velvet heels hurriedly but with kind of a fun-swift attitude clapped across the white tiles, “Quark, hope your business is clean as usual. O’Brien, finish that up later, now get on with the lightbulbs in the restrooms. Dax- Dax?” the manager hastily took a sharp turn through the fire exit and found the brown-haired girl just about to take down her ponytail to impress two motorcyclists.

“Ehm?” Kira cleared her throat before calmly taking a sip of her raktajino.

“Oh Kira!” The young woman turned around. “Is it time?” She cringed her beautiful face in a slight annoyance. “It’s time.” Kira half sang as Jadzia Dax walked up to her and lead her inside the station again with her palm pressed to her back.

“You have 15 minutes to get your fan group to leave otherwise they’re in trouble.” Dax only laughed at the alarmed manager but ran off to the front with “Oh boys! You can’t just spend the whole day-“ before the glass door shut behind her and everyone was left to just stand there watching Jadzia glitter in the setting sun, laughing and gesticulating to the other member of a motorbike gang. Kira with her raktajino in one hand and her office key in the other, Quark stopping midway from cleaning the counter, Miles O’Brien turning on his step-ladder, Doctor Bashir reverting from his hot apple pocket and book, and even Morn paused with his beer halfway to his lips when he stared through the glass wall at Jadzia Dax and her staggering persuading skills.

It took about a minute for the first person to stop gazing outside and cleat her throat, whereupon the bartender started stacking up the juices, the doctor got very invested in his hot apple pocket again and the repairman screwed out the old lightbulb. In about 5 minutes the boss walked through the front door.

The bartender Quark, who owned the café automatically poured the boss a cup of double raktajino and handed it over with a crooked-teeth smile. “On the house, of course.”

With the cup in his hand, the man strolled the shop cautiously; greeting the employees with a nod and everyone was silent as if they were undergoing a serious inspection. At the end of his stroll, manager Kira handed him the month's sales report. Skimming through, Mr Sisko nodded approvingly and finally spoke with a big smile when looking up.

“Well done, Nerys, I can see the station is running smoothly and flourishing under your supervision.” He praised the manager, making a mental note to review her paycheck in future. With that statement, it felt like the ambience of the store revived again and the hum and movement started again.

"Hello Doctor, finished early today?" Sisko joined Bashir at the nearby stool with his cup. Before he could answer, Sisko turned to Kira once more. “Also, where is Odo? I'd like to have a quick look at the security logs. And-”

The main door opened then, so he averted his attention briefly. His eyes fell upon the cap with the station's logo and a badge, suggesting a new employee. Doctor Bashir's eyes seemed to light up, as well.

“You must be Mr Sisko!” She set off elegantly towards him. “Curson has told me much about you.” She extended her arm. “Jadzia Dax.”

The man looked confused for a while before a big smile spread on his face. “Ah, Jadzia! I’m glad to meet another Dax! Your family just keeps growing and growing! Sit down with me.” He got up from the stool to sit down by a coffee table and couple of armchairs, to which Jadzia joined him.

Meanwhile manager Kira turned on her heel and walked back to her office, bumping into Odo in the doorway. “Kira.” He nodded and held his arms behind his back. “Odo.” The manager smiled and squeezed past him into the small room while he continued to stroll the perimeters of the shop, after a quick back glance at Nerys.

“Are you sure you want to do that, Quark?” Odo said to the bartender who was secretly picking the lock of a charity box on the counter. At the sound of Odo’s voice he dropped the metal box which landed on the floor and cracked open. With a patronizing look the bartender said: “Now, see what you’ve done, Odo? Not only those poor orphans don’t have parents, clothes and school supplies, thanks to _you_ now they don’t even have a proper fund! Better take this to the back and fix it myself…” on his knees he started gathering every coin from the floor. “I don’t think so, Quark.” Odo’s dark silhouette rose in front of the thief.

“Right.” Doctor Bashir stretched with a yawn, talking into the air like anyone cared. “I’ll call it a day.” He proclaimed when he decided his chances of seeing Jadzia again in next dozen minutes dropped low. Saving his sense of self-value, the engineer O’Brien incidentally left the bathrooms with a toilet bell in his hand, waving a goodbye to the good doctor. “Care for some beer and darts, Miles?” He tried at last. “Not today, Julian.” O’Brien apologised with promises to catch up when his wife and daughter leave to grandmother’s place on the weekend. Julian didn’t forget to drop a symbolic contribution to Morn’s little cashbox on his way.

* * *

 

On the night shift, around midnight, Quark was counting his profits thoroughly before leaving. Sisko was long gone; O’Brien home with his family as well. After all, everyone who had something at home to return to, did. Except for Bashir, who simply had to get up early in the morning.  Dax left only recently; she started with shorter shifts. The station was peacefully quiet, only filled with the mild ambient music and occasional traveller coming by to purchase gas or have a coffee from a vending machine.

Manager Kira stayed late, typically, crammed in the small office, doing administrative. When Odo was left with little else to do, he cared to make a cup from Quark’s coffee machine and bring it over to the manager. “I wanted to convince you to go home and get some rest while Ms Leeta (the girl at the till) and I handle the shop but I know better.” He set the coffee neatly at the designed place on her desk.

The short haired and short tempered woman looked up from behind her desktop computer which resembled middle ages. “Oh, Odo.” She reached out for the cup without looking up from the files and folders. “We’re in losses again. I can’t believe it. We are the only station on WH3; there’s nothing but us for miles. I don’t understand it.” She sighed and laid her head flat on the rough surface of the desk. “I wish there was something I could do. But both Sisko and I know we can’t go on like this.” Now she was almost murmuring to herself while sipping her coffee lying down.

Suddenly the noise of broken glass sounded from the front of station, and Kira and Odo shared a quick look of horror before hastily getting up and running over. A group of maybe four or five motorcyclists were painting black lines on the asphalt with the bikes. In their black leather jackets and heavy boots they wouldn’t normally be recognizable, but their long wavy brown hair and necklaces gave them again. The Klingon gang. Drunk on something resembling rubbing alcohol and cat piss, they laughed while almost falling down over.

It was deep dark and the lights of the outside lamps were the only thing illuminating their figures. Odo’s arms hardened and sprung for the gun at his belt while stepping out through the door, avoiding the shattered window; being careful not to damage any evidence. While he spoke calmly but firmly to the gang outside, the manager got her hands on the phone to dial the police, but glancing aside could see Quark squeezed behind his bar with his fingers wrapped around his personal mobile already, dictating the address. Kira put the phone down steadily and watched the scene outside.

The Klingons alerted at the sight of the gun but as typical for their nature, they wouldn’t be scared off. If something, they were more aroused. “If you want to fight, throw away that toy, you coward!” The leader told Odo, to which he responded it was not very honourable of them to go five against one. The Klingon smiled approvingly and suggested one to one combat. To some degree, you had to play the Klingons’ game. Nevertheless, Odo was not the type of man to emotionally respond to challenge and mockery, this game of words only served to buy him time until the police arrive.

One of the Klingons eventually resorted to trying to make a deal. “The new pretty girl in exchange for us leaving.” He said obscenely. Adding few more nasty comments about the young employee, the biker only triggered a reaction of the other member, who started defending Jadzia’s honour. Odo folded his arms composedly when the Klingons only started to fight among themselves. By the time they drew knifes out of their pockets, the police sirens resounded and the gang jumped on their bikes and in a flash of light they were gone. Fortunately, fearless as they might be, they had no desire to spend more years in prison.

After a quick talk to the police, they returned in the shop, sighing. This added another problem to the list and honestly everyone present was tired enough to go crazy. Quark packed his money and walked around the bar. “That’s it, I will see you tomorrow, bar closes, lousy day, lousy profits, why am I still here?..” Quark was muttering on his way out, the drawer from the till under his arm. At the door he threw some leftover sandwich bread at Morn, since there was no profit in leftover food. He mumbled a goodnight at him, despite he was deep asleep. 

* * *

 

The next morning The Daily News slapped against the manager’s desk, followed by Weekly Gazette and What’s New?, all bearing the same news – New highway to lead from Portmont to Selar City, current highway WH3 to be closed. Nerys looked up at Odo, whose arms were already folded on his chest. ‘What’s this?’ Kira asked even though it was obvious. ‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’ Odo pointed to the paper. ‘We’re out of job starting next spring. Better start sending out our resumes.’ He snarked and looked through the window to the melting asphalt of the motorway on this hot summer day. ‘More information and commentaries of the accountable company called Dominion and their supporter, the newly elected senator Dukat, on page 17, 21 and 30. Another snark.

‘You can’t be serious.’ Kira, without even touching the newspaper got up and started pacing across the 4x4 room. Her quick glance aside belonged to the half dead plant in the corner, an old photo of Benjamin and his son, and roller blinds with chipped paint. After that she could only direct her look at Odo, who was now watching her closely. ‘Have you called Ben?’ she blurted out. ‘No, although, if you’re not up for the job, I can.’ He suggested. ‘No, no.’ Nerys sighed. ‘I’ll tell him, though I doubt he hasn’t heard yet. Jake probably knew before this even got to print.’

 

 

Exactly at 8:20 a.m., the familiar white Ford parked at the back of the gas station. The handsome man with caramel skin got out, sunglasses reflecting the acute sunrays. Shutting the door, he walked towards the entrance, locking the car with a remote control, with grace and confidence. That is, until he tripped over a misplaced cable and spilled coins from his wallet. He started frantically collecting the cents, leaving those which rolled away to Morn, which he already accepted as a contribution.

 “If I’m ever injured, remind me to specifically ask for any doctor but you to take care of me.” A tall figure with well-fitting uniform leaned over the blushing doctor, smiling with a playful mockery.

“Jadzia!” Bashir got up swiftly, dropping yet another coin he just picked up. He smiled back to cover his embarrassment. “I, uh,” he stuttered, kicking the cable away “surely Miles’ fault, leaving things lying around.” He snorted, waving a hand. “Anyway, uh, why don’t I get you a coffee and tell you how wrong you are in assuming my skills, hm?” He put on the charming façade on again.

“I would love nothing more; unfortunately I am due at the till and I just finished a cup, so perhaps another time.” She refused assertively but still softly. Bashir nodded several times, scolding himself for everything in his mind.

“No problem. I will see you around. Maybe we can have a drink in the city or something, sometime.” He shifted his bag further on his shoulder and headed into the store. Dax just smiled with a shake of her head and followed him in.

“I would almost think you don’t have a job at all, Bashir.” Quark remarked with a half-smile while pouring him a cup of strong black coffee which the doctor nonchalantly took while turning on his heel and dropping down into his favourite seat. “And what makes you say that?” He raised his eyebrows and watched Jadzia crouch behind the till at the other side of the room. “Well for one, you spend more time studying Jadzia’s time schedule than you do actually, you know,” he pointed with a glass at Bashir, “doctoring.” At that the doctor just rolled his round brown eyes and took a sip of his drink.

By this time Kira was on the phone with Ben for about 15 minutes when finally hanging up and turning her chair to face Odo. “Right, well, we have our orders.” She sighed and got up. “Which are?” He raised his eyebrows and scoffed as he opened the door for the manager. “Stay calm and don’t tell anyone.”

“Hmm” Odo grumbled and leaned his chin on his fingers. “I did some research on this Dominion company. They are influential alright, but I was looking into the reason why they have senator Dukat’s favours. Undoubtedly, there has been cooperation between the CEO Weyoun and  Dukat. It’s not a well-known thing but they have worked on at least two more projects together in the past; projects which were questionable to say the least. What’s more, I am positive Weyoun even had something to do with Dukat’s election; corruption also presumably plays role.”

“Who corrupts who?” Quark’s oversized curious head slipped into the room and they both turned to him with annoyance.

“None of your business.” Odo retorted. “What do you want, Quark?”

“I meant to speak to Kira.” He lifted eyebrows as no one moved. “In private. This is none of your business, Odo.” He teased.

“Just talk, Quark.” Kira prompted him, defending Odo’s presence as there were hardly secrets between them, especially not when in running the store. Quark sighed.

“I just wanted to request a day off on Friday.” The barman said humbly.

“Hmm, what is it this time? Someone threatens you to kill you on Friday? Or expecting a dubious delivery?” Odo started the interrogation even before Kira could ask for the reason and so she just smiled at this scene of theirs.

“In fact” Quark emphasised “it’s my mother’s birthday.” He admitted, leaning his head slightly forward to add on credibility.

“How touching.” Odo shook his head, pretending compassion. He didn’t buy it. But before this highly interesting argument resulted, just when the manager suggested to have a look at the rotation options, a shattering glass resounded. Odo promptly left the room just to find doctor Bashir in front of Jadzia again and his cup broken on the floor. A Klingon, named Worf, he believed, stood next to him, about to challenge another fight. He rolled his eyes. They never gave it a break, did they?

Kira’s eyes soon flashed towards the scene but restricted herself from coming closer to observe it. Instead, she looked down at Quark again. “Right well, I suppose your brother is also not available, since this is a family matter?” She folded her arms and raised her brows. “It was his idea in the first place, to throw her a birthday party. At her age, mind me!” At that point Quark seemed irritated enough even for Kira to believe he was truly annoyed and believed his cause. “Alright, alright. I’ll find someone. But next time, maybe you could give me a little heads up? I mean, it’s not like she has birthday on the same day every year, is it?” She smiled and finally came closer to the crime scene of a broken crockery.

“What’s going on?” Asked Odo, who was already escorting the dear Klingon out of the main door. “Nothing to worry yourself about, Kira. Just a little, misunderstanding, I’m sure.”

“Jadzia?” Nerys turned to the young woman who just shrugged her shoulders with an innocent smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Only a little friendly rivalry.” She nodded her head towards the doctor with a bleeding lip to which he pressed his embroidered handkerchief. “You could say that.” His brown eyes glittered with a new found spark but his mouth was in an ugly shape of pain.

* * *

 

Julian, tired after a late night shift, stared at the moon through the station’s window, deep in thought. His hand rested on his mug of hot milk with honey that Rom, Quark’s brother, prepared just for him. Of course, Quark would have charged extra for an item that isn’t even on the menu but Rom never had quite such business soul.

He listened to the occasional travellers pass by, sinking into that store’s ambience, the one that felt warmer than home. Something to make him relaxed enough to sleep serenely when he gets home. Rom was cleaning the back area of the bar, Kira was sitting with her laptop in the seating area for a change, and the girl at the till was obviously chatting on her phone. However, Julian barely noticed the automatic door opening and a stranger walking into the aisles of goods. Not until a voice suddenly spoke behind his shoulder.

“Hot milk? I would not expect a doctor to be suicidal; contrary to coffee, such thing puts you in risk of falling asleep behind the wheel.” The stranger says with a playful undertone.

Bashir blinked his eyes, turning around. “Thanks for the advice, Doctor..?”

“Oh, no, by no means. Just Garak. Plain, simple Garak.” He smiled. His blue eyes radiated genuine good intentions, and yet his words and tone suggested problems.

“Okay, Mr Garak, have we met? I don’t remember treating you.” He raised eyebrows but honestly, this man almost gave him goosebumps.

“Ah, it’s a matter of simple deduction. Forgive me the intrusion, I only wanted to express my concern. I understand if you don’t appreciate a company at this time.”

The good doctor automatically glanced aside at the gas meters to have a look at the vehicle of this strange individual but saw nothing. Checking the electric station and car wash – nothing. He thought it strange, a man without a car on a gas station in the middle of the night. He didn’t think much of it though and looked back at Garak.

“No, sit down if you please, don’t let me stop you.” He shifted slightly on his couch while carefully removing his milk mug from the table again. “I’ve never seen you before, I don’t think.” Bashir furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously.

“Oh, really? On a gas station? I thought this ought to be a public space! How wrong was I!” Garak kept on going with a smile as Bashir realized that what he said made no sense absolutely whatsoever. “Nevermind then.” The doctor said annoyed.

There was silence for a few heartbeats. It only added to Julian’s unease when he felt the man’s intense look on himself. When he tried to dismiss it by returning the look quickly, he only received a wider smile but not a flinch from this stranger. Bashir looked back ahead with confused eyes widening.

This Garak, he thought, looked like a carefree kind of man who liked to confuse people. With those nearly middle-length messy hair, however tucked back, and dare he say extravagant outfit, Bashir could assume no less of him that he was a hitch-hiker. Possibly even on some kind of run. He should beware. Oh, geez, I should stop reading all the crime novels, Bashir thought then, realizing he sounded paranoid in his mind. So he tried a friendly approach, turning at this Garak, whose piercing eyes still studied him acutely without shame.

Bashir cleared his throat. “So, where are you headed to, Mr. Garak?” At the last moment he decided against offering him a lift. He was a kind soul but not a suicidal _idiot,_ thank you.

“Oh my dear doctor, I have reached my destination.” Garak said as he leaned back into the seat and gave Bashir another mysterious smile. “This station!” He continued while throwing his arms in the end, when Julian stayed silent. After that, he put his hands back into his lap again and rubbed it against each other.

“This station,” Julian repeated after him, “is you final destination?” He now relaxed a bit, since he could tell the man is simply joking him and his genuine end-way is probably something not very uncanny but actually boring – like his night shift at the institution or his one bedroom apartment. But the thought that maybe this might not be the case brought a strange thrill to the doctor’s late night contemplation so he decided to go with it.

“Alright, Mr. Garak. And what are your intentions here? If I may be so bold to ask.” Julian decided to play this roguish game of Garak’s, to which his companion smiled with a wide smile of a man who has many answers.

“What are the intentions of any fellow, up with the pale moonlight, long way from home, talking to a coincidental young man? Or – _is he_? Coincidental, that is?” He leaned just a little closer with every escalating word, sounding as if the verses were read straight out of a drama script. For a while Bashir reconsidered if the man was an artist. Or a rapist.

Bashir shifted a little further. Garak seemed to somehow avoid all his questions. It was all strange, annoying and intriguing. Any answer Bashir could offer might be ridiculously false or true. Wait, another possibility, Bashir thought, the man was on drugs, or drunk. But thanks to the more than welcome distance the man appeared at, Julian could say he and his breath smelled nothing like alcohol. And his doctoral instinct told him there were no drugs involved but he could well be wrong without inspecting it more closely.

“You _clearly_ seem to know me” the doctor nearly lost his patients as his voice rose slightly. At that, a spark flashed in Garak’s eyes. “Then if you have any kind of unfinished business, or a request, whatever it might be, I would appreciate you told me because honestly” he put the mug with a few leftover sips down, and got up at last “I am very tired for such ambiguous conversations.” He picked his bag, ready to leave.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Garak answered and leaned back into his seat again with a smile. At this point Bashir nothing of politeness and simply turned around and walked off to the night, with the sound of his automatic keys clicking and his vehicle responding with a sound beep.

Rom only then realized he spent the last 15 minutes standing behind the counter with the same wet glass in his hands and his mouth opened to a square, staring at these two. Shaking his head now, he looked at Garak who suddenly gave him a look back, to which Rom turned around immediately, almost scared. He jumped down on his knees to the fridge, and started re-stocking.

Very soon after that, the automatic door opened once again and the strange gentleman Garak walked off. Before Rom could turn and see where he was heading, he lost him in the dark. “Ohh, dear.” He muttered to himself and started shaking from fright over this absurd scene. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Thanks Tobin, have a productive day!” Jadzia pressed a kiss on her brother’s cheek before she got out of the car, stricken by the everyday bright summer sun. Her long flowing dress followed her steps to the store. She greeted the manager who sat at the table with her morning coffee, looking up to the small television. When she followed her eyes, she could see senator Dukat making a speech, barely audible, it was as if Nerys just read his lips, with her own lips twisted in an unconscious frown.

Subsequently she greeted the bartender Quark, whose eyes scanned her figure before she pulled on her uniform for the rest of the day. “Can I make you something meanwhile, pretty one?” He asked before she got in the staff room. “A strawberry milkshake!” She shouted back as the door closed.

It was a good start of the day. Despite recent problems, the store was bustling with customers since the early morning. It was Saturday, people were seemingly off to their summer houses and beaches. She also noticed Bashir’s absence; perhaps he’s getting a long-needed sleep after the night shift.

In her dark blue overall uniform Jadzia stopped at the counter to pick up the milkshake and a smile from the bartender before exiting the building. The sun was high and bright and her trainers happily crunched on the hot gravel. A white Ford just drove in and a middle-aged man in a matching white suit got out sleepily. Jadzia immediately jumped to the car and grabbed a pump.

“Hey, hey, hey, Missie!” The man woke up and shouted. “Don’t touch my car, dearie.” He seemed in a fusion of shock and anger.

“Oh, this is a full-service station.” She announced like a real gas jockey. The man stayed silent and she used that time to continue. “I operate the pump and can check your oil level and tire pressure over there, if you want to.” She pointed, her hand still holding her milkshake, to the air compressor with a tire-pressure gauge.

“Alright,” the man said carefully, “you sure you understand these things? I mean, you look like a pretty girl, shouldn’t you be running off with boys somewhere and not vacuuming the tobacco from my carpets?” He laughed hoarsely. Dax politely smiled with him but put her drink down by the paper towels and waited for him to get into the convenience store, still laughing and shaking his head.

 

Odo, stuffed in the office, stopped the tape at 00:15 a.m. on the camera recording. He started by tracing potential thefts when finding about $20 worth loss in the accounting, but now he was preoccupied by a peculiar scene he came across. A conversation of the familiar doctor and a stranger he’d never seen before intrigued him. He leaned back and sipped on his coffee, thinking. He had played the scene a few times, never seeing the man doing anything but coming to Dr. Bashir, exchanging several sentences and straight leaving. Nobody else appeared at the scene around such time and Odo was especially taken aback by the discretion of the scene.

Dr. Bashir was hardly a suspect in any possible wrongdoing but Odo still decided to keep a closer eye on him. Nevertheless, feeling overly suspicious, as he was sometimes reminded, he exited the small room to keep his mind off things for a while. He returned the mug at Quark’s bar and leaned for a while to look around.

His eyes laid on the manager at the table, who was slowly finishing her coffee but already typing on her laptop, perhaps some e-mails. The eyes moved no further from there and he shortly found himself daydreaming. He watched her running a hand through her hair and then her long fingers tap fast on the keyboard, then hit enter, and stop. Perhaps he should talk to her, ask how she was today; as really, not a small talk. So he started walking closer. And then her phone rang.

“Bareil! How are you? Yeah, I got a while..” She said into the phone, getting up immediately. Odo stopped dead in tracks after hearing the name. He watched her as she headed out of the store, giving Odo a cunning smile.

Quark, being Quark witnessed this scene from the back of the bar and when he noted the sudden change in Odo’s posture, he thought it strange.

“Brother?” Rom spoke next to him in his idiotic way. “What?” Quark sighed and turned to him, the sun shining into his eyes through the window. “Something really weird happened yesterday on my night shift, brother.” Rom continued as his brother used his hand as a shield against the sun. “Ahm.” He stopped paying attention. “Right.”

“I’m telling you brother, I had a very bad feeling. Like cats crawling all over my back-“ Rom continued but Quark interrupted him, as he is used to. “Look, Rom. I don’t have time,” he now started to crawl on the window to bring down the roller blinds, “for this kind of nonsense. We get it, you don’t like cats. Now get back to work.”

“Wait.” Odo came out of the cold, bitter trance when he subconsciously heard Rom’s words. He approached the counter, leaning closer. “What kind of ‘weird something’ you saw yesterday? Mind telling me more about it?”

Quark rolled his eyes “You’re wasting your time, Odo, my brother probably saw some weird fly crawl on the wall.”

“No! Not this time.” Rom shouted, squeezing a cloth in his hands, all fidgety. “The doctor Bashir was here, late at night, and a _very_ scary, big man in weird sweater talked to him and I never saw Bashir from then!” His voice elevated into a panic voice.

“It was several hours ago, idiot!” Quark shouted back and pretended to be over this by cleaning the back of the bar, however still listening attentively.

Odo, intrigued, nodded his head seriously. “Did you hear anything they said? Did you see where the man left and did Bashir get into his car safely? Tell me everything you know.”

“Uhh,” Rom looked back at his brother in confusion and insecurity, “well..” Quark gave him a quick look and nodded. Rom’s head turned right back at the security officer. “No. I mean, I didn’t see the doctor get in his car, but I heard him open it. And that man waited few minutes and then went outside as well!” He muttered quickly with eyes widened and his head pointed forward from the rest of his body. “And after that!” He looked around again. “Puff!” Proving his point by gesticulating.

After a short pause, Odo spoke again. “Hmm, alright. Let me check the outside camera’s again.” To which Rom sighed with relief to be rid of the responsibility of having seen the doctor last. “But!” Odo turned just as he was leaving. “I would be careful if I were you. Since you are the only witness of this scene, so far.”

Rom’s face has gone blue and Odo chuckled to himself just as he was passing Quark. “Oh, great Odo. Just what I needed. My idiot brother thinking some guy in a funny sweater will kidnap him.”

“Brotheeer!” Rom cried out loud as he awkwardly ran to Quark. “Brotheeer!”

 

“It was two days, Leeta, believe me, the doctor Bashir is in trouble! Nobody else can see it, but I know, I saw the man!” Rom gesticulated over the counter frantically.

“I believe you, Rom.” The girl in the uniform said compassionately. “But I am sure there is a good explanation, don’t worry. Doctor Bashir was just busy and there is Odo who will make sure nothing happens to you as well. You trust Odo, right?”

The bartender looked around, nodding several times. “Everything here is strange…” Rom added, squinting.

“What do you mean?” Leeta sighed and stopped what she was doing to listen to him again.

“Don’t you think so?” Rom turned to her. “Liiike, have you ever seen Odo _not_ being here? He never goes home! Same goes for the manager! Maybe they don’t have homes, Leeta. Maybe they live here. And I never heard Morn speak, isn’t that strange? And how come Jadzia started working here without an interview, hm, hm? Oh my! Maybe they are all in on it! Maybe it’s all a big trap set up for me! What is Odo and the others are now secretly in the office watching me on cameras?!” At that moment he started squeaking and jumped on the ground behind the counter, probably praying.

“Rom, come on!” Leeta laughed and kneeled down to grab him by his ear and bring him up to his legs again. “This is crazy!”

“No! Maybe you are crazy! Maybe you are on it with them as well.” Rom’s whimpering got almost unrecognizable and he just started muttering “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna diiieee!” when the automatic doors opened and doctor Bashir walked in.

With the speed of light Rom jumped to his legs and ran across the whole store to Julian and hugged his leg as tightly as he could. “Thank God! I’m not gonna diiieee!” Rom cried to which the doctor just stood, profoundly confused.

“Alright, er, why don’t you have a seat uh-“ Bashir tried to make small steps forward, dragging the bartender with his leg slowly. “I’m sure you can have a five minute break, Mr.- Quark”

“Rom” Leeta hummed in the background, scratching her hair while looking away.

“Right, Rom. L-let me go, please, here, now, have a glass of water and come join me at the table, okay?” Bashir said, not quite out of the doctor routine yet. Leeta told Rom she would cover for him on the bar meanwhile, despite only visiting and not even being on shift.

“Cappucino, love?” Bashir called to Leeta on his way. Rom jumped at the words and his face reddened but he decided not to comment on it.

“Now, I am not a therapist and I’m off duty but mind telling me what is this drama about?” Bashir leaned back in the armchair. Rom started telling him the whole story (gradually calming down according to Bashir’s instructions – “breathe in, slow down”).

“I assure you I am in perfect health, and nobody wants to kill me and neither you, alright? And the security is here to look after everyone’s safety-“

“So I told him.” Leeta came with Bashir’s coffee and reassuring smile. “See, Rom? Nothing to worry about. And if you were ever really concerned, you can call Odo, or me.” Her voice quietened slightly at the last part.

“Okaay.” Rom nodded absently. He forgot the whole matter within ten minutes, preparing a hot-dog happily behind the counter.

Leeta stayed sitting at the table with the doctor (while Rom eavesdropped the whole time and they knew it) for a small chat.

“Just try not to scare him, he is easily paranoid.” She said when Rom was far enough not to listen at the moment.

“I am not surprised, with the types of people coming to this station daily, or especially at night. To be completely honest,” he lowered his voice “I myself have felt like being followed lately.  Some weird days.” He shrugged and then laughed it off. “Good to see you, Leeta, I’ll talk to you soon.” He said before she set off home.

“Good to see you, Julian.” Leeta hugged him, just vaguely remembering when they were together for several weeks about a year ago, and how reassuring he could be at times. “Anyway,” she turned one last time as she was leaving, “where were you the last couple of days? You never miss your daily hot apple pocket.” She giggled. Rom’s ears erected.

“Oh,” he smiled with his childish smile that always reminded Leeta of that small awkward boy she knew him as, “don’t tell Rom, but I was a bit upset after that night, so I took on an extra shift and it was easier for me to stay at the hospital than to return home for the two hour sleep.” Shrugging his thin high shoulders.

“Oh no, have long have you been up now?” Her eyes widened and he kind of liked when she did that. “About 36 hours, but who knows what Rom would have done if I hadn’t showed up today.” As they both laughed, Rom behind the counter crouched with uneasiness and embarrassed.

 

Another sunny day, Leeta brought a tray with two ice-creams to the outside seating at the back of the station. She sat the two sundaes in front of two youngsters and got seated next to Rom in front of them. “Right, so, I called you all here because of a very important plan.” Rom started, leaning on his elbows to be more discreet.

“This station is approaching a _ten-year_ anniversary.” He said excitingly. “And I was thinking” he looked around quickly “we could throw a party!” He shouted in whisper. Leeta took a breath in with excited surprise. “But, it is a secret party.” He put in finger in front of the mouth. “Are you in?” Everyone nodded slowly.

“Here’s the plan. This Saturday, conveniently, manager Kira comes in the morning on her shift. It is just brother, I, and Leeta on the night shift, and Odo. We must think of a way for him to take the night off. But first things first. Leeta, I want you to bring decoration, Nog, you and I will take care of cake, drinks and snacks, Jake, I need you to convince your father to come to the party, but don’t let him know about the party! Also, if you could write a speech, it would be great! At night, we prepare the party and when Kira, Ben and Odo come in the morning, we will wait with a surpriseeee!” He spread his arms.

“Party? Surprise? Without _me?”_ Jadzia’s shadow spread across the table, and she set her palms on the table. “Give me a task, I handle it.” She smiled.

“Oh noo…” Rom cried as his plan didn’t work out as well as he wanted. “Alright,” he said after a while, “your job is to get some guests. So it would be an _actual_ party, and not just another regular shift, okey-dokey?” He asked with a serious face.

“Okey-dokey, Rom.” Jadzia giggled, sat down with them and took her phone from her back pocket to search through her contacts. She started muttering to herself “Of course, yes, definitely, oh, he would _love_ a party! Yes, oh, I haven’t seen _him_ in such a long time, yes, yes.” While she checked all her friends in.

“Rom? Are you sure this is okay? I’m not too sure about this…” Leeta suddenly turned to Rom with a sorrowful look on her face. “I mean, I don’t think Kira or Sisko like me very much. And they are not fond of your brother either. Maybe if they wanted a party, they would throw it themselves.”

“I don’t think so.” Rom stared back at her and she back at him. And the mechanical wheels in his brain started turning around what would happen if everybody hated the party. But Leeta, as she stared at thinking Rom, saw something quite new that she hasn’t seen before. So she smiled. To which Rom panicked.

“Oh Rom, you’re such a good guy! Don’t mind me! They will love it, and they will love you because you are so lovable!” She grabbed him by his ears and wiggled her nose against his. Jadzia looked up from her phone, pleased. Jake and Nog slightly displeased, but didn’t say anything. “It’s gonna be wonderful!” Leeta called.

 

The good doctor entered the store, whistling slowly when looking around. “Julian, you showed up!” Jadzia hopped towards him, giving him a heartfelt hug. Julian looked up, his smile spreading; clearly it was already worth it to manage getting an early afternoon shift instead of the morning one.

“Beautiful.” He muttered then, looking at Jadzia.

“I know, right, praise goes to Leeta and Rom” she pointed over to the pair, who tried to hang up the big sign ‘Happy 5th Anniversary’.

Quark talked to Nog and his cousin Gaila (who apparently only came to mock Quark’s poor career choice) over the bar. Even Morn was invited inside today for a free _soft_ drink, breakfast and a cake later. The music was ever so slightly louder and happier and the station was gradually being filled with familiar guests and chatter.

“Alright, Kira and Odo should be here in exactly five to ten minutes, followed by Ben and Jake in about fifteen, if everything going according to the plan.” Jadzia announced, clapping her hands once together.

Bashir already got seated on his favourite sofa by the window with his hot fruit pocket and a cup of tea. “Both Odo and Kira were gone? Hard to believe, how did you manage?” He asked by the way. Jadzia turned to him, winking. “I know a few tricks on the manager and she knows how to handle Odo when I handle her.”

At that exact moment Kira was getting out of the car with Odo, at the back of the station. “I just don’t understand how you can act like that, Odo. Everybody’s faith is their own business, not _yours_! I swear, sometimes you are so insensitive.” She proclaimed and slammed the door shut. “Nerys, look at what’s happening in this country thanks to difference in religion. If you ask me, people should believe in themselves first, not some made up Gods in the sky, telling them who is worthy and who is not.”

“Well nobody _asked_ you, Odo. Besides, Gods are not throwing judgement upon every living thing, you got it all wrong. You don’t even know what you’re talking about!” The manager walked quickly around the building, but Odo was catching up to her in distance and arguments. “What I don’t understand is why you have to try to convert people into your religion. If everybody is free than why reform others of what _you_ believe in!”

“Well obviously, you know nothing Gods and the connection I have with them. You know nothing of love, Odo.” At that moment they both walked in and saw dozen of their friends gathered up for a lovely meeting, a party, with a big pink-orange sign ‘Happy 5th Anniversary’ hanging at the back.

Kira stood like stunned, her eye twitching momentarily. Odo slowly brought his arms up to fold on his chest. Belatedly, Rom run across the room to blow confetti out of a popper and honk through a paper party horn.

Bashir could feel the tension, so he rather averted his eyes to his tablet, silently biting his pastry. Same applied to Quark, who started impartially wiping the counter.

The managers scanned each one with her eyes, raising her eyebrows questioningly whereupon everyone looked down except for Jadzia who shrugged with an innocent smile. So Kira sighed. “I, don’t know what to say.” She said in resignation more than anything else. Odo frowned.

“Maybe you can start with what this is supposed to mean.” He prompted, not so surprisingly disagreeing.


	3. Chapter 3

Before anyone responded, a Mercedes car parked in the station’s parking lot, and with familiar voices approaching, Benjamin and Jake Sisko entered the store. The silence was prolonged. Kira looked back at Sisko with concern, starting to sweat and Odo was ready to set off within a second and put things in the right order.

However, Sisko put on a big smile eventually. He laughed with a gasp. “What a surprise! I barely kept track that it’s been five years. Time flies, doesn’t it?” He continued laughing, heading straight for his coffee at the bar. “Doctor, I believe you’re well?” He called rhetorically towards the sofa, sitting down at the bar stool. When nobody spoke, he looked around. “What’s with the standing around like bunch of poles? Let’s celebrate! He exclaimed with another amused laugh. Leeta, Rom and Jadzia exchanged looks, smiling at last.

Within the hour, everybody was celebrating, drinking, eating and even dancing. Nobody even cared to close the station to public for few hours, people simply joined in! Jadzia was at a table with Quark, playing cards with spiked shots of orange juice which gave Jake and Nog the opportunity to swipe some adult magazines off the shelves. Engineer O’Brien showed up with his wife, who happens to be a florist, so suddenly the whole room was filled with magenta Voodoo Lilies and baby blue Hydrangeas as gift to the staff.

Morn sat quietly by the counter, sipping his drink while Rom and Leeta both struggled to connect the computer to the speakers so they could play some decent music. Ben Sisko observed all of this from his seat across the room, sipping a vanilla milkshake Rom basically forced into his hand as a sign of celebration. He looked around his company, his station, and his crew. And he couldn’t be prouder of the collective that he managed to establish here, with these wonderful people, each with their wonderful perks and wonderful characteristics. He looked around and saw not only colleagues or friends, but family. At that moment he decided to do whatever it takes to save this small, very diverse, but very loving family of his.

And as Ben was observing the room, Kira observed Ben with a little line between her thin eyebrows. Odo noticed and sat down next to her and her cooled down raktajino. “Anything on your mind, manager?” He asked, lifting his eyebrows cautiously. But Nerys’ answer was only a sigh and a heavy look in her eyes.

Rom got the speakers working and a tune wafted across the room to them. _When something is wrong with my baby_ by Sam  & Dave. Odo, getting up stretched his hand to Kira with a light smile but worried face. Nerys smiled back at him after a while with the shine of the morning summer sun and got up to her feet and to her heels. They started swaying, first on the grey tiles by the entrance, then between the aisles of soft drinks and teddy bears. Her feet clattered softly, his trousers rustled against themselves in a slow motioned hurry. He tried to keep up with her, even though he knew he never could. She held his arms and he felt the fire in his face. They passed the lottery tickets, chocolate bars, lip balms, cat food, pretzels and slushies, and the melody lasted just until they both stopped in front of confused Rom. Odo took Kira’s hand and put it into his, like a gentleman. Nerys laughed and went to dance with Rom at which Odo sensed a strange vibration coming from Leeta. Almost as envy.

Doctor Bashir rested with his eyes closed for a while, listening to the music. Maybe daydreaming a little.  The warm sun caressed his face from the window beside. Somehow, this all was soothing. This station always calmed his nerves, kept his mind away from the daily horrors of operating that had become a standard to him. Those minutes, hours among these people weren’t about life and death, they were stress-free. And right now, there was so much affection around. But he knew when he opens those eyes, he will see something he is not truly part of.

And suddenly the light and warmth was gone. He felt a light tremor. He opened his eyes, frowning. His heart skipped a beat with surprise when he saw a familiar figure standing something about two feet in front of him. He shifted closer to the backrest and straightened his body.

“I did not mean to startle you, doctor.” Garak smiled as he does. Julian looked around; how come nobody noticed him coming, he thought. Nobody seems very surprised by his presence, almost like nobody even noticed yet. It angered him; frustrated him. Enough to say:

“What do you want?”

Garak lifted his eyebrows in bit of a shock but kept the smile on. Bashir shook his head.

“I’m sorry. That was rude.” He sighed, avoiding his eyes.

“Indeed, it was.” Garak agreed, without a change of tone, though. Another while of silence. The doctor realised that this man didn’t look twice as scary and mysterious in the daylight.

“Can I interest you in a glass of…cider, or something?”  Bashir asked courteously. Garak’s smile widened calmly.

“Thank you, I believe you could.”

The doctor, suddenly involuntary, got up and went over to Quark to pay for two fruit ciders. When he came back, Garak was already sitting down and looking around, almost examining. Julian, now looking around as well, felt a slight sting in his chest, for no medical reasons. He didn’t want this stranger observing _his_ people, his family. It was private, _they_ were private. Garak caught his look and with his mouth slightly opened, his eyes narrowed like he was zooming different aspects of the doctor’s face and his reactions.

Julian sat down next to his companion and raised eyebrows. Garak shook his head. This silent conversation of observing each other and then pretending to look elsewhere took another few minutes until Ben Sisko sat down opposite to them.

“Doctor Bashir, we almost didn’t have a chance to talk! And who’s your friend?” He looked at Garak bit suspiciously but Garak politely smiled.

“You must be the owner of this fabulous establishment!” He lifted himself off the sofa and extended his arm. “Garak, it’s a pleasure.”

Sisko shook his hand with a smile. “Benjamin Sisko, the pleasure is mine.” He eyed the guest, wearing a slightly scruffy looking brown-beige sweater with wide sleeves at the end, underneath which a dark green t-shirt was peeking out, combined with old-fashioned blue jeans. In a very bizzare way, it worked.

“Come to think of it, I brought a present for the station’s anniversary. I couldn’t miss the opportunity, as your staff is truly an exceptional one!” He exclaimed and reached to a bag he laid next to the sofa. He carefully took out a thick sweatshirt wrapped up in a purple ribbon.

As the owner was unwrapping the piece, Garak explained his gift “I noticed the other night, the station gets quite cold at night, so please accept this gift for anyone in the crew, the size is universal.” He smiled. Sisko, rather pleased, unfolded the sweatshirt to find the ‘Nine’ logo at its front top and turning it around, there was sign ‘Five years of Nine” across the back; all in the purple-black colouring typical for the station.

“That’s very considerate of you, Mr. Garak. Tell me,” he leaned back, leaving Bashir to the conversation with someone more intriguing. “What is it that you do?” He asked and the doctor turned to Garak, very curious about the answer since he knows virtually nothing about him and he seems to avoid all his questions.

“Oh you know,” Garak smiled, “bits and pieces, odds and ends. Doesn’t everybody, Mr. Sisko?” At this vague answer Bashir and Sisko looked at each other very quickly but Sisko replied. “I suppose so…” His eyes suddenly hardened into Garak’s as he in that moment decided not to trust this man until he gives him a good reason to. “Anyhow,” getting up, “I guess I’ll see you around. And, thank you, for this.” He held the thick sweater in his hand convulsively. After that he left with a strange taste in his mouth and a gut feeling in his stomach.

Quark, who meanwhile finished his game with Jadzia, and losing all his money, was peeping through the crisps stacks to this unfinished situation. As a nosy little creature that he was, he found a good reason for himself to believe something odd was happening. Something quite out of the ordinary.

“B-brother.” Deep voice behind him suddenly startled him. “See? Now you believe me?” Rom nodded to the crisps which Quark immediately started to rearrange. “See what?” His brother retorted. “It’s funny isn’t it? That doctor and that… man with him. He’s scary, isn’t he brother?” Rom’s eyebrows were sky high by now and Quark pushed him aside a bit to walk towards the slushie machine. “What I think is that you should think before opening your mouth, Rom, that’s what I think.” Frowning upon every conspiracy theory Rom has fabricated during the years was an automatic response for him by now.

Odo was back in the office, as surprising as it was, parties weren’t exactly his thing. Sisko dropped by to put the messily folded sweatshirt on the table, exchanging a suspicious look with Odo. “Check this, please, for whatever good it might be.” Was the only thing he said and without waiting for reply he turned on his heel to leave. He didn’t feel like staying here anymore, but spotting his son, Jake, in the small group with Nog and few other adolescent people, smiling and narrating something passionately, he stopped and sighed with satisfaction.

Kira was putting a rotation schedule up on a notice board in the small cubicle part of the office. She _could_ have been talked into a nice party, she could’ve well even enjoy it. But if there was something she didn’t enjoy were surprises, and not having things under control. She didn’t like the fact people treated this occasion as a house party. They were literally drinking on shift, hardly even working. But then there were their, and customers’ smiles. Everyone was having fun. And both Kira and Odo knew it wasn’t a good step to be the fun destroyers.

As they both watched the scene from the office, Jadzia leaned on the door frame, crooking her mouth uncertainly. “Isn’t he a little too naïve? I know he’s extremely intelligent, a surgeon, and that Rom is being paranoid, but literally anyone would have second thoughts about this weird guy. All three looked at the camera view displaying Bashir and Garak directly, sip on the drinks and Julian seemingly making a point furiously, talking fast and even throwing his arms around. Garak had his usual ‘you would look beautiful chopped to pieces on my backyard where I can feed you to my dogs’ smile, which only Bashir never saw. “I know he doesn’t even work here but I care for Julian, he feels like part of us and…I don’t want to see him hurt in any way just because he’s..” she shook her head, glancing at Kira.

As soon as they looked back, they saw the Garak guy reaching into his bag and showing Bashir something under the counter. Odo tilted his head, narrowing eyes. “A drug dealer?...On _my_ station?” He left the office and headed their way to investigate it further.

Kira and Jadzia stayed left alone after Odo stormed his way out of the room and they both giggled a bit. Not that drugs on the premises weren’t a serious offense but because of the utmost professional reaction from the security officer. Jadzia then half sat on Kira’s table and looked around. “Must get pretty cramped here, doesn’t it?” She wondered, looking around the small spaces of the office which both Nerys and Odo occupied.

“Not really, actually.” Kira answered, not looking up from her documents. “Then I guess you’re pretty comfortable with each other.” Jadzia added to which the manager finally lifted her head.

“What do you mean?” She asked confused.

“Just that, you and Odo basically never leave the station and you spend all this time trapped in this small room. You must be pretty comfortable around him, to be able to spend so much time in his presence. One would almost think, too comfortable.” Dax winked and wiggled her eyebrows funny.

“Oh,” Nerys laughed, “come on, Jadzia! Don’t be ridiculous. Odo and I are just friends. Very good friends I might add. So we never really get tired of each other.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Dax wouldn’t let it go and Nerys knew that but for now she just shook her head and looked down on her papers again. But after a while she quickly glanced at one of the camera’s where Odo was interrogating the stranger, doctor Bashir’s friend, with his arms crossed on his chest and with that deep sarcastic laughter of his. Nerys then looked down again.

Bashir sighed after ten minutes of the interrogation, with his glass empty so he got up, deciding to have a chat with Jadzia, who just came back to the room. Nevertheless, he only realized three Klingons appeared in the shop again, already sniffing around his territory. His present irritation suddenly escalated into anger. Frustration driven anger.

“Guys, can’t you see? I’m on duty. I can’t just go for a ride with you.” She refused one of the Klingon’s offer politely. Julian watched for a while, as the same scene repeated. One of the motorcyclist only became more insistent; while Jadzia never stopped smiling, but refused more desperately.

“Hey! Can’t you listen to the lady? She said NO, are you deaf?!” He came closer at last, standing up for her.

“Drop it, Julian.” Jadzia turned to the doctor, who suddenly looked profoundly confused. “What do you mean, Jadzia?” His irritation got the better of him as he simply could not understand why he couldn’t defend her honour for once, especially when a man of this size forces her into something.

“I can take care of myself.” She gave him an apologetic smile and a slight shoulder shrug. The Klingon took a sip of his drink and a victory look came over his face like a shadow. Bashir noticed.

“And you, you better go drink elsewhere, you are not welcomed here.” Bashir angrily turned to the Klingon which he found amusing. Finally, getting up, he spoke.

“Don’t make me turn your bones into ash, little man.” His English was evidently learned and his accent gave him away as one of the members of the motorcycle gang who live by Krennal Forrest. They are very distinctive by their looks, language and smell.

Right after the next remark the doctor threw the first punch, punching the air, as the Klingon dodged his limb in time. This drove Bashir even angrier and with another slight verbal provocation from the man, the fight started. As he grabbed Julian by his shirt and pinned him to the bar counter, to which Quark commented with “No blood on my bar!”, Bashir found a way to twist the Klingon’s arm and duck before his next attack. But then he caught a glimpse of Jadzia’s eyes and that when the Klingon got him on his back and soon they were both throwing punches, kicking (Quark screaming), at the floor of the establishment.

In the next moment Odo got involve to break the fight apart but failed to compare his own physical strength to that of two grown men of which one probably lifts cars after breakfast.

Kira called the police. Odo got a black eye. Bashir will have a lot of bruises all over and the Klingon's arm was broken. It was not entirely Bashir's intention, he soon came to regret it. When Kira said the police is coming, breaking the fight by firm, assertive voice, the motorcyclist did not flee this time (ignoring the fact he couldn't drive). Only his comrades left, together with the cocaine they carried.

 When Bashir cooled down, he walked to the Klingon who sat at the chair, holding his arm while trying not to look weak. "I did not mean for this to happen. I just wanted to help my friend Jadzia." He said, not apologetically, though. "Let me have a look." At which he shouted at him and flinched his hand, hissing in silent pain. "I'm a doctor, damn it!" He mildly shouted back, mostly frustrated at its own incapability to help. To only cause injury. He silently begged Hippocrates for forgiveness. "I think the incoming ambulance will do their job." Said Odo, standing behind Bashir with arms crossed.

"I think you might want to sit down with Kira there and cool down a little." He said in a commanding manner. "Ah-I think I should actually head to work." Julian excused himself. "Not so fast." The security officer raised his voice. "You will stay here until the police arrives. They will have some questions." He leaned closer. "And you should hope the Klingon will be kind enough not to press charges." Bashir tensed. "Charges..?" He whispered, looking around for help. Suddenly, he felt like having no ally. Like he was the bad one. Not even the dubious Garak was around anymore. Of course, why would he. Bashir thought, sighing. Odo noticed this as well, it only added to his suspicion Garak runs in drug business. Avoiding questions, avoiding police, perhaps?

 

Several hours later as Bashir was sitting in a holding cell, the bitter-sweet tunes of Frank Sinatra travelled from the office radio straight to the doctor. Julian, at first, started snapping his fingers to the familiar music, but after he recognized the lyrics as strangely fitting he stopped.

“Here's to those who drink their dinners when that lady doesn't show  
To the girl who'll wait for kisses underneath that mistletoe  
To the lonely summer lovers when the leaves begin to fall  
Here's to the losers, a-bless them all.”

Julian has never been much of a jazz man, but right now he felt like living that time of 1960s, free and pointless. The clock on the wall showed 11PM, making it 12 hours from the incident which led him here. And in that time the good doctor had some time to think over his actions, make couple of decisions, several resolutions and one or two suggestions for his future behaviour. Just as he was contemplating his recent relationship and non-relationships, he heard a known voice singing in unison with the radio outside his little iron bar cage:

“Here's to the losers.  
Bless them all!”

The song finished and switched to modernised pop, at which, when looking up, the doctor saw his new-found friend from the gas station. Garak raised his brows with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Julian could only stare for a while. Sometimes he goes as far as being concerned if this man even exists outside of his imagination. At the gas station, he always felt like the plague, worry and fear inside his mind. Right now, he shone with hope and salvation. And still a little bit of death but that was negligible.

"What does it feel like to be a free man? Learnt something new about yourself?" The rescuer in a baggy yellow sweater teased when they walked down the hall leading out of the police station. Bashir blinked, puzzled.

"Where's everyone?" He asked at last, ignoring the question.

"Others?" Garak acted as if he didn't know what he was talking about. "Is it all you say to someone who bailed you out of custody?" He paused and smiled. "If you mean the employees of the Nine station, they didn't seem in a big hurry to run for your help. Quite dreadful, you call those friends? I hope you weren't so naive to delude yourself like that."

The doctor stopped in the way, his actions mirrored by his companion. He wanted to defend his 'friends' but first he commented the more striking point.

" _You_ bailed me out?" It was a half question, half disbelieving statement. "On whose initiative?"

At that point, Garak resumed walking towards the exit. Bashir called back at him and with no response he caught up. When they were out of the building, it was already dark, slightly chilly, but Bashir appreciated the fresh air. Just as he was breathing in deeply, Garak forced a palm on his shoulder so that he tumbled against the closed door, choking the unfinished breath out.

"Why, on my own, naturally." Garak told him dead serious. He hypnotised the dark, wide shocked eyes of the doctor for a while. And he was just looking, waiting for Bashir's reaction. He was excited, he thrived on it.

“I seem to miss the point here, Mr. Garak.” The doctor finally looked up on the stranger who simply smiled in a reply. “Oh, please doctor. Call me Garak and nothing else ever, will you?” Something deep was lurking in Garak’s eyes as he said that, but Julian made an effort to ignore that.

“Alright,” the young doctor sighed after a time as the continued walking across the dark car park, “say I believe you. I think I owe you a thanks, so, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.” As Bashir stopped and his heart kept chasing his blood thumping through his veins and oh, he felt physically nauseous from this whole twisted situation, but kept his head high. While doing that, he looked around quickly, trying to figure out how to get as far as he could from the police station. But Garak didn’t seem appointed to any particular vehicle, so the doctor’s eyebrows furrowed short above his eyes.

“Ehm, Garak? How on Earth did you get here anyway? Do you have a car?” Suddenly the idea of Garak having a car that they will both share in a short amount of time probably with Garak behind the wheel and thus controlling the direction of their joined journey seemed just as scary as the possibility of Garak not having a car and them two end up walking several miles to the city centre with the strike of midnight.

“Oh, Doctor. Your well-paid career apparently makes you forget of our reliable public transportation.” A sleek smile followed this statement and as a demonstration a bus rambled past them.

The doctor tilted his head back absently, in acknowledgment. And then he couldn't help but crack a smile. It did erase some of the mystery. Garak taking public transport. But wait, he thought warily, someone who can afford to pay a bail, it seems hardly believable he can't _afford_ better. What's more, public transport doesn't get him to the gas station. Bashir sighed soundlessly, leaving himself at loss just like in the beginning.

When they reached a bus stop, Bashir allowed himself to type in his journey in a mobile phone he was returned (ignoring several text messages and missed calls). "Well, unfortunately I just missed my last daily bus. The first night line arrives in more than an hour. Seems I will be taking a taxi." He glanced at Garak. "I'd, uh, offer you a taxi ride in return, in case you needed it..?" Which Bashir doubted when again, apparently Garak was wealthier than his means of transport and washed-off sweaters indicated.

“Oh no, doctor. I quite enjoy the solemn await.” Garak said as he sat down on the uncomfortable seats of the bus stop. “I rather feel like Estragon. And although, I, admittingly, would prefer for you to be my Vladimir, I fully understand the sense of duty towards your work. It is something I truly lack, to be completely honest with you, doctor.” Another of Garak’s smiles landed on his face.

“Waiting for Godot.” Julian stared down at his companion whose silhouette was illuminated only from behind and only by a distant lamp as the one on the actual stop was not in use. In normal circumstances this would frighten the young doctor, but today he simply sat down. “I didn’t know you were interested in literature.”

Garak rotated his body towards Bashir with enthusiasm running through his eyes. “I didn’t know you were either. It pleases me very much to know we share this nowadays a rare avocation. But now, since you sat down here next to me, am I right to presume you are willing to be my Vladimir for the next 58 minutes?” His raised eyebrows and slightly opened mouth indicated a real interest, but that couldn’t be, thought Bashir.

 

 

Jake Sisko hopped swiftly towards Kira and Odo who (mostly mentally) exhausted sat at the table where they traded their daily worries and ideas. They had quite a unique relationship. Worked like a team, sometimes almost like one person, they completed each other. Jake only knew so much about their professional life, not so much about their personal friendship, nobody exactly did these days. But the station was full of nosy individuals determined to find out. Though Odo was an extremely private person and nobody quite dared to question or tease Kira.

“Hey guys. I’m sorry to see this ended up as a bit of a fiasco.” He brought a chair over to the centre of their table and straddled it with his arms leaned on the backrest at his front. “I was wondering if you could perhaps answer a few questions, mainly you, Nerys.” He slipped casually in a friendly, personal manner.

“Ah, and what kind of questions? Does this go to the school newspaper? Or perhaps your blog?” The manager sighed, asking with an innocent distrust and a bit of annoyance.

“Well” the Sisko son cleared his throat, pulling out his tablet for notes “I was wondering how you react to the new senator Dukat. Dad doesn’t seem to express himself on the matter and I know his plans are going to greatly affect our station. And more people than you are going to lose their job under his reign, ah, I mean-“ Kira’s look could kill. Jake started sweating. And Quark eavesdropped. He left all he was doing, coming to the table. “We are going to lose jobs? That’s what’s happening?” He asked as he puzzled the pieces together.

“What are you talking about there?” Jadzia turned up behind Quark.

“Nothing, nothing.” Kira stood up adn gave each person who came closer a hard look. “Everything is fine. There has been just few new regulations but it doesn’t concern us so calm down, please.”

“New regulations?” Quark snarled.

“You mean, we-we won’t work here anymore?” Rom cried.

“But who will run the station?” Leeta exclaimed.

“How long have you known?” Jadzia came closer to Nerys and looked in her eyes as she says so.

“We might as well tell them, manager.” Sisko appeared behind them all with his ominous look and arms in the air. “You all heard of the new senator Dukat, right?” As almost everybody nodded he continued. “Well, it seems he supports an organization that plans to build a new highway and close this one, details are unknown. Which would mean little businesses like this one,” he looked around, “will be in a bit of trouble. But don’t worry, it will take years, maybe decades until the proposal is approved. By then we’ll think of something. _I_ will think of something. So calm down, and do _not_ ,” he gave a hard look to room who was already starting to panic, “panic.”

* * *

 

A few days on it, at the end of her shift, Jadzia stripped off her uniform to slip into comfortable loose trousers and a denim jacket over the tank-top. She said goodbye to the sparse staff left at the station and headed towards the parking lot under the dark sky. As she went, her phone chimed in the pocket.

_“I’m sorry doll, I can’t make it to pick you up today, please call a taxi, I will send the money if you need. Love, Tobin.”_

Just at that, her phone signaled low battery. She sighed, reaching for her wallet to check its content. It turned out, after her yesterday’s little party, she didn’t have her debit card on her, neither money. She sat down on the pavement hopelessly. Perhaps the last she could do is to return to the station like a loser and ask for phone and money. Just like always. No wonder nobody takes her seriously, she thought.

As she continued to loathe herself, a single set of steps approached her. Looking up, she was quite surprised to see a member of the gang. Notably, one and only one, certainly for the first time as they tend to come in herds. She thought this couldn’t get worse, she truly was in no mood to pretend and smile at Klingon’s mockery right now. “Worf, right?” She said with a sigh, forcing the last of her sad smile.

“Yes.” He came a bit closer. “What are you doing out here this late? It is dangerous.” He said with concern, uncharacteristic for one of the motorcyclists.

“A long story.” She paused, not wanting to look low even in front of this man.

He hesitated momentarily, and then sat down on the pavement next to her. “I know you are a strong, brave woman. But that’s not what people around see. They see a beautiful young girl alone at night.” His voice was deep, sophisticated, even. Jadzia looked at him, properly this time, into his eyes. “Nevertheless, I wanted to apologise for what happened the other day. I should have been there to prevent it. It was not honourable from my friends. I also want to say I convinced Martok not to press charges.” He said, and for the first time, Jadzia didn’t see a Klingon, the motorcyclist. She saw a kind, honest, and attractive man.

She smiled lightly and just as she was about to say something, a quick wind following the rattle of three heavy motorcycled swished past them. They both turned their heads immediately and saw the Klingons painting black circles into the road with their bikes. The obvious leader slowing down as the first and coming closer. He wore a dark hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans with dark stains resembling blood or motor oil. Something smelly and dark, to be sure.

Worf held his shoulders high, barely making a sound. But as soon as the other man jumped down from his vehicle onto the gravel and made his footprints across the pathway, Worf sucked in air and got up, slightly in front of Jadzia, but not too obviously.

“Jadzia!” The motorcyclist called through Worf, completely ignoring his existence. “Nice to see you here! I was just about to come in for an oil check at the station. You know no one does is as good as you!” He said playfully, showing his forefinger as a light-hearted mother at a mischievous child. 

“This is Kurn.” Worf announced, irritated. “My… brother.”

"Have you not caused enough trouble already? Continue this and you will be restricted from these premises by court." Worf stood up, speaking proudly at his brother. He easily sounded intimidating; but not to this man, who only laughed.

"I always thought you were weak to be in our family, Worf. You have no honour; getting scared and commanded around by the system like that." He mocked, seeking trouble.

"What is not honourable is that you don't leave the young lady alone despite her explicit wishes. She is not an object to be toyed with." He defended her, surprising Jadzia to which lengths he was willing to go against his people, because of someone who he barely even knows. But maybe it wasn't really about her, she thought. It did feel a bit like being an object that is being fought over. She just wanted to disappear, go home - have a rest. Throw away all the pretence.

All at once she decided, and got up to leave. None of them seemed to notice at first, only when she reached the car park of the station again, illuminated by few feeble lamp posts, Worf turned around and watched her go. Without finishing the argument with his brother, he just gave him a look and then caught up with Jadzia.

“I am sorry for my brother.” He spoke as soon as he reached her. Dax, with her arms wrapped around her body, shaking from the sudden cold, still half-playfully half-sadly raised her brows and asked “Just your brother?” which resulted in Worf’s nervous and embarrassed reply of “And me, as well.”

After that, a while of silence filled the air, which bravely Jadzia broke. “So I’m seeing you don’t have the best relationship with your brother? Or was that just a weak moment?”

“My brother and I… are very different people. We don’t get along as well as we should, as family. This is why we try to avoid each other whenever possible.” He stopped himself suddenly, reaching the point of his comfort zone about sharing personal matters with others. Dax sensed that and decided to let it be for now.

They again walked in silence, now around the station’s main building, without either of them realizing. The Klingon looked up at the young woman. Her slow deep breathing controlled the air around them and her hair, now in a high ponytail, falling over one of her shoulders like fire flames licking her jacket devotedly. Her nails, he noticed, which were pressing into her upper arms, white and oval like waterstones. He now looked at his own fingernails, long and dirty. Hard and dry. With a curious look his companion observed his observation.

“You have very nice nails.” Worf suddenly blurted out.

Jadzia, first taken aback, laughed abruptly, suddenly becoming uneasy. She instinctively hid her nails in her fists. She felt ridiculous; not even being able to accept a regular compliment anymore. Except it wasn’t regular, people compliment her eyes, hair, figure, her bosom, but nails? She glanced at Worf. “Thanks, I guess.”

With another moment of silence, Worf prompted at last. “You look tensed up. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, I mean, it’s been a long night, Worf. I’m a bit stuck right now, it’s just…” She dragged out.

“Would you like me to take you home?” He suddenly offered. Jadzia turned at him quickly. This made him slightly alarmed, so he corrected himself. “Or, perhaps you need a taxi. I only mean it would be for the best not to stay with my brother around and other dubious individuals.”

“Darling, if my brother is being creepy, you can always come with me! You would have more fun for sure!” Korn was back, smile lewd. Worf gave Jadzia a questioning, ‘I-told-you-so’ look. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to be the most trustworthy thing in the world. “Let’s go” she whispered and they swiftly walked up to the motorcycle parked around the corner.

Before they jumped on, Worf took off his leather jacket, putting it over Jadzia’s shoulders caringly. “It gets cold.” He said uncompromisingly. As he jumped on the bike astride and Jadzia followed right behind. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold on tight.”

Jadzia’s sunk deeper into the borrowed jacket and smelled the fragrance of spice and leather. Word notices with the corner of his eye but didn’t act on it. Instead, he started the engine and off they went. The highway met them halfway and everything got blurred so very quickly. Shades of orange and blue went by as they passed one car after another, a distant motel or speed limit sign.

Jadzia’s ponytail whirled about her face, but she didn’t mind one bit. Actually, she went on about to loosen it and let her dark hair weave into a fabric of momentum and impulse. But as she did so, the leather jacket slid off of her delicate shoulders and in an instant disappeared behind the vehicle, in the sea of asphalt. Dax, trying to catch it, turned around hopelessly.

“What is it?” Worf shouted over the loud wind as he noticed her movements.

“I- I lost your jacket! I’m really sorry, maybe we can go back for it.” She tried her best, even though a shadow of anxiety and regret started growing behind her neck.

Riding at least 70 mph, the idea seemed hardly realistic, if not ridiculous. Worf didn’t know if he was angry, regretful or amused. Eventually, he went with not caring. “It is of no consequence.” He shouted back, just slightly turning his head.

When they approached a big sign with main directions, Worf asked which one Jadzia goes. She hesitated, trying to recall which way Tobin drives her when she half falls asleep against the car window. “I think we already passed the turn!” She shouted, being sure Worf already regretted taking her. “Do you know where the Galileo Links are?”

“Why not say that right away?? It’s the opposite way!” He yelled with a hint of annoyance.

“You never asked!” She protested. They were quiet for a while until Jadzia started laughing, half desperately, embarrassed, half easing the mood. She didn’t see but Worf’s corner twitched into a smile, too.

About 35 minutes later, after reverting the direction and heading the right way, they finally reached Jadzia’s quiet neighbourhood, where she easily directed him to her house. It was a good looking two storey family house. Apparently, arriving on a motorcycle wasn’t the best way to be discreet, so just when they parked, a man got out of the house, meeting them at the porch. “Jadzia! We were worried about you!” He said in a distressed voice, at which a young woman turned up right being him, frowning. “You don’t take your calls, you should have been here already! Who is this…man??”

The youngest Dax sighed, blushing. “Tobin, Audrid. I’m sorry, guys. This, this is my friend..Worf. He took me home from work.”

“On that horrible thing?!” The horrified Audrid pointed at the motorcycle. Worf got increasingly uncomfortable.

“Audrid, please, chill. I am home safe, aren’t I? You should be grateful to Worf.” She said and winked back at Worf. “Thank you, again, I will see you later, I suppose.” She said her goodbye as her siblings already dragged her home, giving Worf last suspicious look.


	5. Chaper 5

The office of the petrol station was rather a small cubicle of three parts in total. Manager Kira’s desk, which came with a chair, computer, a chest of drawers, some shelves and a plant. Odo’s post consisted of a similar desk, swivel chair and set of six monitors up on the wall, next to a window. Behind these two stations was a hidden nook with a sofa of an unrecognizable colour and shape which mostly Quark used when he confronted a customer with unreal wishes like clean dishes or a vegan option of meals.

It was now past eleven on a Sunday morning, time for an inventory check and Odo found Nerys helping herself to a nap on that sofa. Her suit was getting creased and one of her arms hanged down to the dusty, moldy floor.

“Nerys?” Odo spoke from above to wake her. “Nerys, you can go home today, you’ve been here all night, I can manage.” He spoke again with no response from the young woman. After kneeling down to her eye level, he spoke for the last time at which the manager showed signs of life after death and growled lightly.

“No, no… I will get up, right… away.” She promised in half-sleep still and stretched out her warm hand, covered in dust, to Odo’s cold one. Grasped it, held it tight for several seconds, then as she fell deeper and deeper into sleep again, let it go while her own hand revisited the floor again. Odo’s frantic heart at that moment was shot with several dozes of adrenalin and affection which made his legs rattle.

Odo's eyes lingered at the manager for a few more moments before he stood up and pivoted on his foot to examine the air-conditioner of the room. Today was particularly cold day, contrary to the sunny days they are getting lately. It's been cloudy enough to assume it will rain in later hours. The deputy manager attempted to switch the machine off with a few learned pressed of buttons but after a while of struggling he, to no surprise, found out it was stuck (frozen? ironcally). He proceeded to unplug it entirely. However now, there was no way to warm the room up with this very device. A few short minutes later, the engineer O'Brien was called yet again to fix this, plus several other things on the list. Odo just had a mutual mocking conversation with Quark, who ridiculed his purchase of a blanket. Before Odo returned from the station's main spaces, he glanced through the window. It was quiet today, a bit gloomy, he thought. But for an optimist, it could be perceived as a nice lazy Sunday. A nap and tea day. He smiled unconsciously, bringing a blanket and a mug of tea for his dear friend back to the office. Perhaps he could relax and give in, just for a few minutes…

Odo later sat on the sofa, next to Nerys, who calmly rested her head on his lap. They did this sometimes, when she had been working for two days without visiting her own apartment. It has now been three days since she stepped into her private spaces. The security officer started brushing his fingers lightly through Kira’s short brown hair, almost tasting the structure. He sighed and looked on beyond the office and beyond the window and beyond the station, visualising how his life could be different. It didn’t come naturally to Odo to daydream like this, especially not in the working hours, yet this time, as the air ran through the fuel dispensers and invisible drops of rain dripped from the roofs to the platforms, he felt almost romantic beyond belief.

Moments like these gave his life fabric on which he then built everything else that seemed meaningless at first. Nerys shuddered under the blanket and her nose wobbled as speck of dust landed on it. Odo could cry from delight and glee but the sudden realization that this moment will end and she will come home to someone else overwhelmed him. Getting up quickly he got back to the convenience store and shouted at Quark something unrecognizable to which the bartender replied with some sharp answer and went off drying his cola glasses.

Around late lunch hours, two rain-soaked men in shorts and t-shirts entered the station; the slenderer one shuddering mildly. A bit miserable looking, they brought a loud fight of egos with them. “You don’t have the right to complain! How many times did we have to cut our dart matches short because of your medical emergency, hm?!” The Irishman growled, walking towards the office to get his equipment.

“Well, yes, I am sorry to save lives! We literally planned this racquetball match for more than a month! Couldn’t we just finish it first? Or you’re so self-important, geez Miles, you’re an engineer..” At which the engineer raised hand in resignation, disappearing behind the door. Bashir sighed, slumping on his favourite sofa. “Why is it so terribly cold here, anyway” He muttered, glancing at Quark, shaking in a fur coat behind the bar.

“That’s why it was urgent. Don’t be selfish, Julian.” Leeta suddenly appeared in the room, coming from the door that O’Brien left. “The air-conditioning is stuck, freezing the place to ice.” She said, stroking her upper arms herself. “Guys do we still have that sweatshirt over there? Poor Julian’s cold.” She rolled her eyes.

Rom alerted immediately behind the bar and started fumbling underneath the counter. Shortly he pulled out the messily folded gifted sweatshirt that somehow appeared there and stretched his arm out with it. Both Bashir and Leeta reached for it, when Bashir finally realized Leeta was being sarcastic and he was a weak-ass. “Oh, you go ahead.” At which she protested and he did as well.

 “You-you can take mine, L-Leeta. I am not cold.” Rom interrupted them, undressing his woollen sweater. “Aww, Rom, that’s so sweet.” The young employee blushed, accepting. Both Quark and Bashir rolled eyes at each other. “Well, I will take it, though.” The doctor said, grabbing the sweatshirt before pulling it on and returning to his sofa.

In the next moment the doors opened again, this time to Jake Sisko who strolled in with a raincoat and a courier bag over his shoulder. His eyes sharpened as they landed on the group and raised his brows when he found doctor Bashir among it. “Hexya, Doctor!” He shouted but before he could reach the man, Rom ran to him and stood in his way.

“Jake, do you know where Nog is? He isn’t answering his calls for the past t-three days. W-Was he in school on Friday?” Rom’s eyes watered with angst and stress. Both of his hands were on his chin, and his mouth was opened to a cube.

“Eh, yeah. He was, but came in late, so he was called to detention and some extra work over the weekend. I think he’s helping paint the drama props or something.” The boy laughed but the Rom didn’t find it amusing. “Look, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him, when I see him in the evening. We are going out to a concert.” Jake pronounced proudly as he squeezed around Rom to get to his target.

A moment later he sat down next to the doctor with a smile and a stare. “Oh, hello Jake. You startled me.” Julian laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry about that doctor Bashir. You know, you are a pretty sensitive guy, being started easily and stuff.” Jake said, staring again. “I mean it good! Like, it must be a very valued characteristic of a doctor, right? By the way, how’s your medical practice? Any new exciting patients? Did you operate on someone who swallowed 7 Barbie dolls heads? Or, or! Did anybody stab any old lade in the back without her noticing lately?” The teen continued excitedly at which the doctor leaned back and raised his brows.

“What do you want Jake?” He sighed.

“Just a moment of your time, I swear! It’s just a really important article to the school newspaper. I have to write about someone who has some kind of a career and how he got where he is, et cetera!” In that moment Jake got a cold look from all Rom, Leeta, Quark and even Odo, standing near the wall observing the station.

“Oh! I-I didn’t mean like, you guys _didn’t_ have a career or anything. It’s just, just that I’ve been writing about petrol station life so many times that my editor wants something new, haha! Nothing personal.” He turned back to Bashir, hopeful.

“Alright, alright, let’s get it over with.” Bashir leaned back, pretending to be nonchalant about it, while in reality he felt almost narcissistic pride about being acknowledged as important. “It all started when I was 16 years old.” He began narrating proudly and emphatically. “A wonderful tennis player. Top of his class.” Jake hesitantly started recording on his best friend tablet. “Young, ambitious and eager; I charmed many girls, but then I was charmed myself by the most charming of them all – medicine.” Was where the young Sisko stopped the recording, shaking his head in distaste.

“Doctor, no offense, but I am the writer, you don’t have try to add style to your narrating. First of all, don’t, just don’t give medicine gender, and secondly, is this even true? I mean..”

“Hey, do you want the truth or a good story?” Julian frowned, a little hurt right now. Okay, deeply.

“What if you told me the truth and I will see to give it justice in my article? I want a believable, relatable story, not a Mary Sue fiction.” He explained. The doctor sighed, straightening his body on the sofa and cleared his throat.

“Fine, if you think that someone will dig a story about an autistic, socially awkward kid who finally got out of special school at 16 just to apply to medical university three times..” Here’s when the journalist eagerly started a new recording, already typing some suggestions into his electronical notes. “So maybe I wasn’t the best with girls, and I wasn’t the smartest kid, but I had good heart!” He said with actual emotion, feeling instantly insecure. “I loved medicine, I always did. But nobody thought I could do it. Everyone settled with a talented, autistic tennis player. Where you need no brains, nor social skills. Or good looks.

Anyway, I did get to medical school because I worked hard. I got good medication for my disorder, too. Things got better, and I was not the best, but also not the worst in my class, I had passion that was an enormous asset..” From there, he continued talking about how his studies and subsequently career grew. At that moment Jake knew why he chose this man. Leeta, standing opposite to the bartender, listened to most of the conversation as she shook her head half- admiringly and half in disgust. “This is it, this is why I dated him and broke up with him.”

On the other side of the room stood Rom, still in his confused manner, but this time watching intensively engineer O’Brien mingling with all sorts of cables and wires behind one of the cold drink fridges. After a while, O’Brian noticed Rom and turned to him, half angry.

“What do you want, Rom. If you want a drink, just bloody take it.” Sighing, he turned back to his work.

“I-I was actually admiring your work.” Rom swallowed this sentence like spaghetti and looked into the ground. Miles’ eyebrows almost crossed over as he looked at his hands, intertwined in the yuck piece of engineering.

“Really?” Turning back to the bartender he raised his eyebrows again. “Well, if you want to help, you could fetch me that slotted screwdriver and couple of screws.” Rom turned around so quickly his feet almost didn’t make the transition from one side of his body to another as he started looking in the toolkit, to be the most swift and outstanding help. He handed the tools to Miles O’Brien, who gave him a light smile with his dwarf mouth and Rom actually blushed.

For the following hour Miles started explaining different terminologies, meanings and way to fix couple of fridges and freezers and his companion was listening attentively to every single word. Leeta something glanced their way and gave Rom her proudest smile, as she was the only one who knew that he was about to ask O’Brien for several weeks now, if he could teach him a thing or two about mechanical and electrical engineering, but never had the courage.

Twenty minutes or so later, O’Brien came to his friend who was no longer fried by the eager journalist. Jake settled at the edge of the bar with a slushie and a game on his phone. “I’m sorry, Julian. It’s stupid to fight, we’re both adults. I’m not entirely done here, and I don’t think we make it today anymore but let me know during the week, will you? We’ll get together soon again.” He explained, a wrench still in his arm. The doctor, who was just pulling out a book to indulge in a while of comfortable solitude, sighed with a nod.

“It’s safe to say we were both out of line today.” He got up to give his Irish friend a one-arm hug. “I’ll look forward to a proper re-match.” He said, sitting down again. It only lasted less than ten minutes before he was interrupted again. This time he didn’t hide his annoyance in an audible sigh/growl.

“I don’t think I expected a more pleasing view.” A familiar voice exclaimed.  “By myself alone sewn garment worn by my favourite doctor, except distastefully combined with the rest, however balanced by holding of a classical piece of literature. Goethe; suits you, doctor Bashir.” Wide smile and striped t-shirt with a waistcoat was the first thing Bashir saw when he lowered the book he _just_ started.

“Thank you for the fashion evaluation, what am I, 8/10? Please, Garak, join me, let’s skip pretending I wished to have a moment alone and I am yet again pestered-“ He stopped in the middle of his tired honesty, waving hand. “You know I don’t mean it.”

“Of course I do. But really doctor, I doubt you are fearful to simply express your wishes to be left alone, what is more, we are getting to the same old ‘how dare you talk to me at public premises’ conversation.” He grinned and sat down. This time Bashir smiled back.

“You are wicked.”

Bashir’s hand automatically took the corner of the sixth page (as this was as far as he got without being interrupted) and fold it to close the book at once, giving up in ever being a literary.

“Oh, doctor!” Garak exclaimed at once and stretched out his hand to grab the book. “This,” He raised it next to his face, “is a piece of literature. Translated from the original German language, this autobiographical novel that influenced the Romantic Movement should be treated with respect. Behave accordingly.” He declared, still holding the book.

“Oh, did I touch a nerve?” Bashir smiled lightly and leaned back into his chair. “Is this your favorite by any chance?” Julian’s ego jumped as he finally discovered something real about this stranger, only to be flattened out in the next moment.

“Oh, not at all. Never even read it. Might as well be absolute trash.” Garak playfully threw the book on the bar. “But the man on the cover does resemble your pretty little face, Doctor. Only I never saw you cry, sadly. When I do, I will make the comparison more precise, I promise you that.” Julian swallowed on blank and stared from Garak to cover.

Awkward silence ensued. Or, more precisely, a tense moment, not really that awkward for those involved. It’s the moment when the words sink in; Bashir perceives the goose bumps, but also the little thrilling twist of his stomach. Giving up the eye contact, Julian’s eyes lowered, shadowed by the thick eyelashes. He failed to notice Garak’s lick of the lips as he started to sink into thoughts, unconsciously examining this man’s expressive square jawline, smooth shaven, and the pale skin on the strong neck disappearing under the neckline.

They both were torn out of their observations as Leeta sweetly asked if they would like anything to drink or snack. The visitors turned at once before Bashir first dragged out an answer. “Uh, yeah, actually, coffee maybe?” He gave her a distracted smile. “A herbal tea for me would be excellent, my dear.” Garak added gallantly before immediately looking back at Bashir. “So, doctor, tell me about your choice of the book. Are classics your zone? I like to believe we choose a book that somehow reflects our current selves; our needs, fears or desires.” Julian furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know, I mostly enjoy detective or crime stories but I’d vastly like to add classical literature in my reading.”

“Oh, but that is exactly it. An eternal thrill-seeker. I know that when I look at you. But I realize, you do have the soft spot.” He jerked his head towards the book. “This? That is not thrill you are seeking now, that is something to embrace your insecurity.”

Bashir snorted, shaking head. “You think you know it all.” He mocked softly.

“By no means.” Garak replied promptly. “It is my version of truth. We are all entitled to that.” A quick smile, and a pause. “Read to me, doctor, will you?” He suddenly requests.

“….here?”

“Why, where else?” Garak asked as if this was the most natural thing to ever do and the doctor eventually, as always, rolled with it. So he flipped back to the beginning of the book and started reading in a mild voice.

“How happy I am that I am gone! My dear friend, what a thing is the heart of man!”

 

Around the same time the manager stormed out of the office, with her mobile phone glued to the side of her head and her arms gesticulating as she aimed for the back of the shop, near the fridges that Miles were so good to fix. Freezing around ice lollies and soft drinks, Nerys grew desperate of how more could she interact with a person over a phone. Only Leeta and Quark noticed her, but minded their own business, only occasionally eavesdropped.

“Edon, listen to me. I don’t want to fight you, but you’re doing this to yourself. I’m just sick and tired or arguing with you all the time. It’s interfering with my work and- Oh, are you serious?! Suddenly my work is less important? Be so kind and enlighten me, please! – You know how much would I love helping refugees, but somebody has to make the money here. Wait! Are you listening to me! Shakaar, I swear to God if you-”

Odo observed her with sorrow and concern from the office threshold before closing the door on himself and went back to the sofa. He was so tense and worried to make anything out of this, and even to do his work. So he just sat down and placed his head in his palms, to breathe deeply. One-Two-Three. One-Two-Tree.

Quiet shooting voices resounded from the mobile game Jake was so involved in; at the other side, Bashir’s dramatic, full of emotion voice, reading: “and the breath of that universal love which bears and sustains us..” and the ambient music melding in the sound of heavy rain outside.

A lone car parked outside by one of the gas pumps as a hectic man in a suit exited the car with a phone by his ear. With one hand he started manipulating the hose, about to put it in his car, however he stopped in his movements, seemingly getting more focused on his phone call, getting soaked by the rain. It only took a mere second. The car itself, with hand brakes unsecured, set off in incredible speed right towards the main door. Morn, sitting only a meter away, immediately stumbled on his feet when he foresaw the situation. It was too late to warn.

Jake saw it right in front of himself, sitting a few meters in front of the main glazed door. He breathed in sharply as the car run right through the glass, the sound resounding loudly all over the station. At least six racks of goods were run over and brought the rest as domino. The edge of Quark’s café was destroyed; taking Jake with it before the car finally stopped in the centre of the room and all that was left to hear was Leeta’s scream.


	6. Chapter 6

Leeta's and Rom’s first instinct, after they both screamed their high pitch voices off and after Rom passed out, not of injury but because of the trauma, was parental, and each held one of Jake’s hands as he was transferred to the ambulance.

Doctor Bashir’s hands were bloody; his first instinct at an accident was to save first, worry second. He jumped to Jake’s bleeding organs, applied pressure, and with the flashlight on his phone opened one of his eyes after another to see if there’s any reaction to the pupils. He was the one who called the ambulance. Garak disappeared.

Right after getting out of the office and looking over the scene, Odo laid his eyes on the manager, thrown against the freezers on the ground with a trickle of blood under her lips. His first instinct was sliding onto the floor to her and holding her face lightly by the chin with his two arms. She was awake. She groaned at first, shrieked and took her arm. Too tired to make any conclusion she tried to get up, with the help of Odo, but failed. In the end, he helped her sit down with her back against the freezers.

The car’s front, smashed, still rested in the middle of the shopping area. Odo was shaking lightly but unstoppably, not because of being too traumatized as the most of them (he has seen similar things in his previous jobs) but because of the manager crouched, shocked, beside him. Just the realization it could’ve easily been her in the ambulance, if she were just few meters elsewhere…his broken heart would’ve never recovered.

“Nerys, are you alright?” He asked caringly and carefully laid his hand on hers. She immediately grasped the hand tight, making his heart skip a beat. She just nodded absently. He wanted to hold her, tell her everything was going to be alright. But he couldn’t, and she wouldn’t appreciate being viewed as one who couldn’t handle it herself. “The police is on their way, try to relax.” He told her what he knew she needed to hear instead. “There is nothing we can do now.”

Quark slowly walked over to them slowly, with a glass of water, asking them if they are okay. He himself was lucky this time, standing far enough so his only harm was his destroyed bar, which probably hurt him more than if it was his body.

Another ambulance came, this time for Nerys, and the police closed off the area when they finally came. Putting a red tape around the station was like putting a No Entry post at their home. It was Quark who stayed, the only one who could stay. Everybody else had to go and there was just nobody but Quark to watch the station. His shock was the smallest, as his tiny cynical heart was always counting with something like this ever happening.

And after hours and hours, after Ben Sisko had been called to the hospital and after the police left and the investigators left and the insurance company came and went, there was nobody. And the wind got cold and the forest got nearer. Quark held his till under his arm and murmured something to himself before getting into his car and finally leaving.

 

The next several days were numb days. The station was closed for business, and after a last reunion in the hospital to visit Jake and Kira, its crew mostly hadn’t heard of each other whatsoever. Some of them, like Leeta, Rom or Jadzia took the opportunity to collect their paid holiday and recover from the shock somewhere out of the city, with their families.

Odo was the last one to relax. He visited the station daily, trying to clean the worst himself. Sisko was out of reach, refusing to be of assistance until his son is proclaimed absolutely stable and on his way to recover. Before they were granted the insurance money, not much could be done, and the insurance company was in no hurry. In between that, in hours Odo considered a ‘spare time’, he sat next to Nerys in the hospital, keeping her company and seeing to her needs. He could not help being dedicated even if he wanted to.

On the third day of Kira’s stay in the hospital, in the late afternoon, Odo headed in her recovery room as every day. The doctor he just talked to informed him she should be able to go home the following day. And even though the security officer sees the manager every day, he felt nervous just like the first time. Maybe because this was outside of work. Just as his anxiety raised the most, entering her room, he felt like being stabbed in the heart at the sight in front of him. This tall middle-aged man with movie hair and charming attitude held _his_ manager’s, no, friend’s—his _Nerys’_ hand. He knew who it was, of course, he heard, he could put two and two together but he did not expect this. Shakaar. They both looked at Odo at his entrance, and he felt naked, vulnerable, defeated. He tried to hold his chin high and stay, but all his instincts were telling him to excuse himself and flee.

Kira didn’t pay much attention to Odo, she kept looking at Shakaar who kept holding her hand. “We’ll talk about this later. You should go.” She said at last and nodded towards the exit, where Odo was still standing. Edon looked at Nerys first, then at Odo, and taking his khaki rucksack, he went.

“I mean what I said, Edon. And I think you did too. There’s no reason to pretend we didn’t.” Kira added as he was passing Odo, who forced himself to look into the ground and not at Shakaar or Kira. After he left, Odo felt very strange for a while, and when lifting his head up, noticed the manager closing her eyes and exhaustedly laying her head down on a pillow.

“Should I leave you alone, Kira?” He said, reminding himself to be a bit more professional than he would like to.

Nerys didn’t answer him for a long time, and Odo almost thought she fell asleep, but then she spoke up, her eyes still closed. “I always thought of myself as someone who tries her best at helping people. Ever since my days as radical activist, marching through the streets with big cardboard signs and beads in my hair.” She then opened her eyes and gazed at Odo. “But I grew up. And this world took over me. And Shakaar,” she looked away again, concentrating on one specific smudge on the wall, “just always reminded me of that. And- it was so uncomfortable because I knew he was right and I was wrong. And I, even with that knowledge, didn’t force myself to do anything about it.” She sighed heavily and looked back at Odo with a light smile.

“No mind now. We parted. Just before the accident; and my broken arm won’t change any of our feelings. It’s a broken bone not a shift in judgement.” She smiled sweetly some more, before moving her head to a more comfortable position, closing her eyes, and falling asleep. This whole time Odo was silent and thought about what she said. Then, taking his things, went home.

 

On the other side of the city, a family was sitting down to a dinner and their predictable argument.

“Think what you want, Quark, but adult education is a wonderful thing! I’m very excited to do something with my life again. Your brother agrees with me, see?” She nodded proudly at her younger son who had spaghetti hanging from his open mouth. Suddenly his face twisted in a sourly look as he hated confrontation and wished to have everyone seated down to a nice family supper.

“My brother is an idiot who doesn’t have an opinion about anything.” Quark opposed his mother, while standing behind his chair, refusing to sit down and enjoy this collective. Ishka, in protest, lifted up her chin, as well as her skirt and sat down to the table.

“T-That’s not true, b-brother. I do have op-opinions! I’m-I’m just not as loooud as you two are about them.” He stuck the rest of his food back into his mouth to chew them slowly while his eyes ticked from one end of the table, where his mother sat with quiet pride and a sense of self-righteousness, to the other, where his brother leaned his hands on the backrest of his chair, sinisterly gazing at his kin.

At that moment Nog showed up with his tablet in his hands, and completely destroyed the tension playing out in the dining room. Entering his password to some social media account he mindlessly sat in Quark’s chair who, when he did, flipped out, shouted at Nog and kicked him.

“Can’t you see this is my spot, you good-for-nothing!” Angrily and hastily Quark sat down with a slight sense of defeat and started eating before anyone could comment on it.

“Well, somebody got out of bed this morning with the front foot.” Nog murmured, as he sat across his father whose eyes were still watching the tennis match between Quark and Ishka, before sighing loudly and stuffing his mouth with more spaghetti.

After the dinner, Quark stepped outside of the house, lighting up a cigarette underneath the appearing stars, in silence. It wasn’t a frequent habit, especially not when he was working but he was being very down-to-earth about the current situation, and others’ attitude frustrated him. Just like Rom, his co-workers are either blind or paranoid. He could see this coming from the first sight of trouble.

It was not like this job brought all too much profit, he thought pragmatically, inhaling the burnt tobacco. It might have been a sign. Maybe working elsewhere, he wouldn’t have to see his brother’s face every day. But neither Jadzia’s flashy smile that made everything seem better than it was.

“Throw that away, do you want to end up like Zek?” Quark sighed as his mother showed up behind him, he just nodded silently and threw the nearly finished cigarette down anyway. She observed him just for a few seconds as if it was all it took. “So what is it? I know you don’t need money, you would’ve already asked without all the drama.”

Quark smirked, nodding once again. “Not yet.” He paused. “The station is inevitably going bankrupt, sooner or later. And all that work, all these years!-“ he started raising his voice in frustration, ripping a small branch from a bush on his mother’s garden.

“I see. And now you think you lost all the purpose in life again. Quark, my good old workaholic. Did it occur to you to look beyond work for once-“ he interrupted her, throwing the branch on the ground.

“And get married! And divorced! Like Rom!” He spread his arms and sneered in overacted enthusiasm. “Have a kid, to lead the same miserable life.”

“Quark, this kind of thinking must make you feel lonely-”

“Pwah! Nonsense.” He turned around, about to go back inside as it was getting chilly, he was telling himself. “I know you care a great deal about the people at your work.” She added. “And as we all, you _were_ affected by the loss of Zek, and it is perfectly natural to be afraid of losing another stable thing in your life.” At last, he turned around again, snapping.

“Don’t lecture me, Ishka! I’m not here to cry about my life like my stupid brother. I can take care of myself, I just wish people left me alone for once.” He muttered, closing the door again behind him.

Ishka stood outside for a while after that, looking into the darkness and then up on the sky. She could almost make out Zekkie’s face in the stars, as if they were linked together. He was smiling down at her with his wicked smile and she sighed and sat down on the front step of her house. The door behind her opened again and Rom peeked his head out.

“M-Moogie?” He asked and swallowed. “Brother stormed out a-and took his car and left.” He stayed silent a little while after that, trying to find out if his mother heard him at all. He came closer and sat next to her, his knees brought up close to his chest as he was shaking a bit from the cold. “C-Caan you give me some change for the bus for me and Nog? Quark was our ride.” He asked quickly but Moogie was still quiet.

Several minutes went by before Ishka lifted her head up and looked at her youngest. Drawing one arm, she put it around Rom and tugged him closer to her. “And what about you, Rom? Any news? We haven’t talked about you for some time now. Tell me, how is that little lady of yours?”

Rom’s face grew red and his ears grew pale as he started stuttering even more than normally. “M-Moogie! I t-told you sh-she is not m-my lady. H-Her name is Leeta,” he sighed, “and she-she. Would never look at me. S-She was in a relationship with Doctor Bashir, Moogie. And he’s a Doctor, Moogie! Doctor!” He looked into the ground as his eyes started watering. “I don’t even have a degree!” He cried out.

“Listen to me, Rom, sometimes a degree is just a piece of paper proving nothing. People like Quark or this doctor Bashir of yours may be successful, but also hard-working, and cold. They are lonely, darling. You know how to appreciate a loving family and values that matter. Why do you think they are not together anymore? From what you have told me about Leeta, she is an honest, decent girl who needs a man with heart. Not a machine. These men sacrifice all their peace and humanity. Often, even their sanity! Remember poor Zekkie, the job was his early grave!” She exclaimed, waving her hand in resignation. Rom kept his head down, agreeing silently.

When the father and son sat on the bus, Rom was revisiting the conversation in his mind, thinking about the concept. It started to make a bit of sense. The doctor hides the coldness behind his constant bedside manner, he shines, but when you look closely enough, as Rom sometimes observed, the smile drops when no one is looking. And his eyes become cold. Extinguished. The doctor's relationship with Leeta was quite short and tragic towards its end. Rom wished he could believe he had something more. Like, a heart. Does anyone appreciate that these days?

 

When Odo got out of his car and looked up at the sky, his workplace was under a dark cloud. Not the good kind, filled with Sunday rain making you seek warmth that only the station's chatter, ambient music and Nerys' touch can provide. The kind with rain that never comes. The petrol station didn't bustle with the familiar zest, it no longer promised a pleasant day, it didn't feel like home. And so Odo, with dark circles under his eyes, felt homeless. Just like loyal Morn over there, the only familiar face left there. Odo nodded his head at the man sitting on the dirty ground. "Have a seat inside, Morn, it is cold today. I'll get you a tea." He prompted, maybe trying to fill the void within him with generosity. He didn't understand why he felt like this, why he could 't get a good night's sleep, yes, his career was endangered but it's nothing he couldn't handle before. And Nerys, she is parting ways with Shakaar! After all those months. Odo should be happy to stand a chance, now. But does he?.. He still was miserable. Perhaps because Nerys herself was not happy. And that was the only thing truly making _him_ happy.

Morn tugged his sore old body inside the establishment and with a relief sat down on his favourite bar stool and waited. Odo was in no hurry with the promised tea, as he looked around in sad wonder and had to keep stopping his mind from rewinding the scene over and over again. It was dark now, cold and miserable. The whole front of the entrance was covered with a see-through plastic canvas taped to the sides, as nobody came in to fix it yet – problems with the insurance company.

He put the kettle to boil and leaned his palms straight into the counter, sighing. Somehow, standing here instead of Quark, in darkness and silence, it didn’t promise anything good. How ridiculous Odo felt, now that he actually wished for Quark’s annoying face wandering across the station. His only company was Morn now, who kept staring at him until the security officer handed him his promised tea. Forest fruit.

Suddenly a wild wind broke through the plastic barrier, and Odo, sighing, stepped out to fix it, when a hand, and later an arm, emerged from the outside and swept away the sail. A tall man, with steady shoulders stepped inside the establishment and immediately caught both Odo’s and Morn’s attention. His smile was cunning as he made his way across the floor and looked around with fake wonder.

“I see you have a bit of a draft problem.” He said, turning his head at last to Odo who was still standing behind the bar.

Odo only managed to give a short snort but felt the energy of an authority in the room. Something ran through this man, vitality so rare that Odo had almost forgotten who runs this place, or more precisely, who’s the first hand of the person who runs this place. Him. “We are closed.” He said with a collected attitude.

“Oh, I must have missed the sign on the door.” The other replied with a smirk, as no door existed anymore.

Odo sighed silently, resisting the urge to cross his arms. “Mr. Senator” he growled with attempted respect, addressing the man directly as he was sure to recognise the face from the news “is there nothing to do in the office today that you felt like visiting a bankrupting gas station?”

The senator laughed. “I assure you, Mr..?” He raised his eyebrows. “Odo.” Replied the deputy manager. “Right, Mr. Odo, I am here professionally. Are you in charge here?” He slowly started walking around the ruined front of the store.

“That’s right.” Odo replied in the gruff, distrustful voice. “Speaking on behalf of the store manager.”

“Ah, in that case-“ He started, but in that moment another guest, this time invited, entered the store, getting tangled in the sail covering the entrance.

"Good morning, may I speak to Mr. Odo?" The incoming guy in suit asked, holding some folders. This one did actually give Morn a polite nod (as well as the other guest), contrary to the senator who might not even noticed him.

"It's me." Odo said again, coming closer to shake his hand.

"Michael Eddington, The Maquis insurance company, we spoke on the phone."

"Yes, please let's have a seat, I will get you a drink. Mr. Senator, I believe we are done?" Was Odo's way of saying get out. He knew well of that man's plans, new highways and regulations. He wouldn't be surprised if he literally just came to laugh in his face.

"For now, I unfortunately have a meeting to attend, we will speak later." He said before saying goodbye to Eddington and disappearing behind the curtain. And right then peeked in again briefly "The name's Dukat."

"I know." Odo growled, leading the insurance employee to the tables.


	7. Chapter 7

Manager Kira was released that same afternoon and as she took her papers and hobbled down to the car park, she realized she doesn’t have a car with her, since she was taken by an ambulance. She sighed and cursed a little but turning around, ready to hobble back to the main street and catch a cab, she saw Odo standing by her own car few meters away. He looked at her worriedly and anticipated her mood. Her smile melted on her face as she brought her coat closer to her thin body and made her way to Odo.

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” She said joyfully but the wrinkles around her eyes and her smile faded a bit with tiredness. Odo caught a glimpse of that, and decided not to mention it, as he knew all too well how the manager hated to look weak.

“I just thought I would bring your car around and take you home, where I parked my car.” He explained plainly as if this was the only logical way to go. “But if you prefer to take a taxi or stop anywhere on the way that is of course alright as well.” He blabbered quickly.

Nerys only smiled and put her things on the back seat, before she huddled herself on the front seat next to Odo. “Thank you.” She looked gracefully but wearily.

The first several minutes of the ride were quiet. Odo drove in his classic manner; safely and steadily, with no music on. Words hung in the air.  _How are you feeling, how’s the arm? The insurance company. What about Shakaar?_ Odo’s grasp tightened around the steering wheel.  Should he talk first? Maybe he should at least start the stupid small talk.

“Jake should be released in several days, too.” Nerys spoke up instead. “He is going to be okay. I actually spent some whiles with him in the hospital. Playing cards, talking.” She narrated with a mild smile. “It’s not like I am glad any of this happened but in a way, I might have needed a rest.”

Odo laughed in a throaty voice at that.  “As I have been implying.” He gave her a quick glance. “You should reconsider hiring another assistant manager, Nerys. I don’t mind the responsibility but two are barely enough for the station.” He suggested, at which she just hummed in a neutral tone.

At Kira’s place, Odo parked her car in the designed place. He didn’t refuse when she invited him up. His heart quivered excitedly when they appeared at her threshold. He had been in before, a couple of times, but yet.

“I just, hah,” she laughed heartily, “it’s stupid but I still think of the station as, a family?” She looked up at Odo, trying to see if he knows what she means. He stood still. “As in, I don’t really want anyone new. Maybe we could school Leeta, she said she would be interested in the position of a senior supervisor. What do you think? Or do you think she’s too young? Oh, what am I saying, she’s only couple of years younger than me. I think work made me older. I think it made you older too, Odo.” She sat on the sofa exhaustedly and looked up at him.

Odo hesitated at first, but then sat next to her, examining her face. “I think it did, Nerys. But maybe not irreversibly.” Kira smiled, then laughed, then stopped and got up.

“Tea?” She asked as she proceeded to the kitchen part of her living room.

“Please.” Odo said automatically and shivered from cold. “I suppose you don’t have an automatic heating system, it’s pretty chilly. I’m going to try to put it on, is that okay?” He left the room and left Nerys in the kitchen, bent above two steaming cups of hot water and her fist clenched.

“I’m no Mr. O’Brien but I think I can re-program it to a timed schedule. ”He shouted from next door. “Just tell me the specific times when you would like it to be turned on. It says it’s best to have it on after getting up, then off as you leave the flat, then on again around lunch time and off around 3PM and then on again around 7PM to-“ he walked to the kitchen and noticed Kira not responding.

“Nerys?”

Odo stood silently behind her, looking down at her hand on the counter and the other hanging in the plaster. Motionless. He stood close enough behind to smell her, but it was just different, contrary to the usual smell of her coconut shampoo, a plain deodorant accompanied with the petrol all around the station, this was just one sterilized, natural Nerys; with too much weight on her shoulders.

Her short hair brushed over his nose ever so fleetingly as she leaned her head back. And then she gave in when feeling the support behind her, leaning on to rest the head on his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat, making him panic a little, especially as she could feel his heart against her back.

As Kira completely relaxed against his stiff body, Odo finally unparalysed his fingers and hands and arms, moving them up and on her hips. He was forcing them not to shake. When Nerys felt him beginning to loosen up as well, she sighed quietly, putting her own soft hand upon one of his. She tugged forward a little, so that he brought both of them around her slim waist, embracing her.

After a few silent moments, Nerys leaned her head forward again, slightly more down to gaze into the steam coming out of the mugs. This revealed the skin at the back of her neck just below her hair. Odo pressed a bit closer, possessively, with a gentle lust, brushing his temple over her hair. And he breathed upon her skin, making Nerys shiver.

They stood like this for a long time, almost like recharging herself Kira took the new energy from the environment, Odo, the steam above their drinks, everything familiar. She breathed deeply in and out, very slowly. Sometimes so slowly Odo was wondering if she was breathing at all. He stood behind her and she felt so soft. But still so, not vulnerable. It seemed funny to him that even though she stood here exposed, completely freeing her mind, he was the one terrified. His heart would not stop racing and his hands started shivering again. Nerys noticed this.

Without saying anything she turned around and wrapped her arms around Odo’s neck, bringing him closer still. In his mind he screamed, he shouted. He wanted, he knew, this was the right moment. The righteous moment there ever will be. Yet he knew, deep inside that he won’t. He won’t tell her a thing, he won’t do a thing. He drew back, in silence.

Like the heat from the tea and the coldness of the room, two emotions ran through Kira’s body at that moment and she could not explain any of them. She let him walk away, back to the sofa. And he let her stand there again, by the counter. The moment was over, the night was done. Soon after that Odo left by his car which he before parked outside. It made no difference to Kira then, if he stayed quiet in her living room or left. She felt alone one way or another.

 

A week later, all the employees arrived at the cleaned-up station in what seemed a rather gloomy, unpredictable gathering. The crew had worked together, with the voluntary help of the engineer O'Brien to fix the minor damage and mess. However, they were still to be opened for business as the door, part of the bar and racks needed to be fixed, expensively. Some wondered why that hadn’t been arranged yet.

Jadzia sat on the sofa with Rom and Leeta who was texting on her phone. O'Brien was silently drinking a lemonade that Quark prepared and just then Odo, Sisko and Kira came out of the office, as everyone eagerly anticipated. Something wasn't right. Some already knew. Sisko stood in the middle of the room and told his staff straightforwardly. “We are in debt of the Maquis insurance company and at this rate, we are going to end up bankrupt. After a thorough evaluation of the situation with Kira and Odo, we came to the only possible solution. It pains me to tell you that some of you have to go.” He paused, glancing at the trio on the sofa. “Jadzia, Rom, Leeta. I deeply regret this.”

Quark glanced from his brother to Sisko, then to Odo and lastly, he laid eyes on Kira. He wanted to protest, it was in his nature after all, but something was telling him that nothing he could say would make any difference.

“Wha-What do you mean, Mr. Sisko?” Rom got up from the sofa, cautiously and stepped forward, quite bravely. Sisko admired that and went up to him to place one of his big palms on his tiny shoulder and sigh. “There will be a lot of changes around the station from now on, Rom. We have to limit our personnel to the absolute essential. Manager Kira, and security officer Odo are crucial in the re-establishing of this place. And if I let go Quark our secondary source of income, the convenience store would be closed down. I’m really sorry.” At this point Ben leaned forward and actually gave Rom, who still stood still like a statue, a hug.”

In the background, O’Brien, who wasn’t technically an employee, just a big fan, stood by the wall, biting on his fingernails. He glanced from the trio in the centre, to Rom, Leeta, Quark and lastly Jadzia. He thought maybe it’s a good thing for her, he thought. She’s too young to be depended on a job like this. After a while he walked to Quark and stood silently beside him. The bartender was still motionless and the engineer could almost see all the things going through his big head.

Quark would not have considered himself essential. It's true he owned the café but he was quite reconciled with being fired, perhaps the readiest of them all. He wasn't sure if this pleased him or not. Because what's left to do on half-bankrupt station, without his good-for-nothing brother and Jadzia's smile? Even Leeta, he did grow fond of the girl.

Jadzia retrieved her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She came to Sisko, looking up at him directly. "I understand, Benjamin." She smiled. "I will return tomorrow with my uniforms." She didn't let him say much to it as she started leaving. Just now, O'Brien started feeling awkward, catching up with Jadzia. "Do you need a lift? I am just leaving myself." She glanced at him, a little distrustfully. But then she remember how good friends the engineer was with Dr Bashir, and she did trust doctor Bashir, so she nodded with a thanks. Much better option than calling one of her brothers - another condescending lecture from Curson was the last thing she needed.

In time everyone left, even Kira went home to rest as recommended by Sisko who in the end gave her a ride. Quark and Odo were now abandoned on the station, both uneasy about this fact, but too tired to really mind it. Quark went about his business and Odo started with the security logs. 20 minutes past and the bartender’s face appeared behind the office door and peaked it.

“Yes?” Odo’s voice thundered loudly as he turned on his chair.

About four to five different reactions went over Quark’s face, mostly hurt and annoyed. “Well, if you need to know-“

“I really don’t Quark, go back to your work. Or I’ll make Sisko reconsider your position.”

“It’s just, it’s pretty lonely out there. There were no customers in the last hour, what do you call that?” Quark complained and folded his arms. But at that moment they both heard a car stop outside and the automatic door opening. Still on his chair, Odo peaked from the office door into the station, with Quark peaking right behind him.

Dr. Bashir stopped in the middle of the silent empty room and looked around until his eyes landed on the clowns and he laughed. “Are you not opened already?” He checked his wrist watch.

Quark, smelling profit, pushed Odo in his chair aside and welcomed the rich customer. “Doctor Bashir, always nice to see you! The usual? With a nice cup of coffee, or something stronger, what do you think?”

Bashir sighed, taking his bag off to settle at his favourite sofa by the window. “Alright, yes, Quark, the usual, please. Coffee will do, too. Where’s everyone?” He repeated. To no avail. “Quark?! Odo??” He prompted them, getting a little frustrated. Odo then finally explained.

“We are in a bit of a trouble. The accident, which you clearly witnessed, complicated already complex situation.” He paused, seeing Julian’s still confused face. “Most of the staff is being dismissed, unfortunately.”

“My God, that’s awful!” The Doctor exclaimed in clean British accent. The matter concerned him more than it should. It would have a considerable impact on his lifestyle if the station became only a cold shell of what was his escape spot, a safe zone.

The pitiful train of thought was interrupted by Quark, still with his full customer service enthusiasm, setting a small plate with a hot apple pocket and black coffee in front of Bashir. And right as the relatively small figure cleared his view, a bigger shape of a person appeared in front of his face and for a reason unknown to Bashir, it made him smile. “Garak. Right on time. Join me.” He shifted on the sofa, and when the other guest sat beside, Bashir was taking a deep breath, inhaling the familiar musky scent. A pleasant fragrance, in fact, and very characteristic for this man only. Something of a natural masculinity, yet like flowers and rain; something quite tempting you to lean into it and relax. Like the risk of getting drugged and killed by him was suddenly not significant. Ridiculous.

“Oh, what a relief!” Garak exclaimed as he sat down beside the doctor. “For a while there, walking across the empty station I thought this might turn into a rather bad situation on my part. I was almost afraid for my own self!” He raised his eyebrows and leaned back, still wearing a distrusting face.

“Afraid? Of me you mean?” Bashir set down the coffee in a hurry and prompted his back. “You can’t be serious, Garak.” He laughed.

“Oh, quite serious, my dear doctor. I thought the station is empty and your invitation here was only a prelude to some bigger trouble.” Garak smiled a villainous smile.

“More like the other way around! You always sneak up everywhere unnoticed, like a ghost, and you bring people heart-attacks! Rom is still having night-mares about you! You scare the hell out of me, I’ll tell you that.” Calming down, the doctor picked up his hot apple pocket and slowly started to nib on the sweet hard corners covered in little cubes of sugar.

“So you _do_ admit you are scared of me!” Garak declared victoriously and the doctor grew red. “Last time you swore I’m just another regular fellow, not daunting in any possible way.”

Julian, accidentally biting a very hot piece of apple at that moment, almost cried out with pain and defeat but decided to quickly have a drink of the coffee instead. Garak only smiled and took out a thin book from behind him. “Shall we read then?” He suggested, turning onto a market page. “I obtained my own copy.”

“Why-why don’t you start reading then, for a change.” Bashir prompts as the last time he read virtually the whole time and now he needed to recover from his mild embarrassment.

Garak agreed, opening his book which was already bookmarked neatly at the last page they had stopped.

“May 22.” He started the new chapter. “That the life of man is but a dream, many a man has surmised heretofore; and I, too, am everywhere pursued by this feeling…”

Bashir leaned back, sipping his coffee and just listened to the story for a while. And after few paragraphs, less to the story and more to Garak’s narrating voice. He realized the man was an excellent reader. Not only he never stuttered on even an ancient word, he read in pleasant fluency, speed and tone. He put himself thoroughly into the role of the protagonist and it seemed as though he wrote the letters himself, although claiming to never have read it before.

It was absurd, really, they sat at the nearly empty gas station, both somewhat fearing each other and yet oddly comfortable with each other; reading a sentimental novel together. Garak seemed to truly enjoy it, both company of someone intellectual (they both did) and reading a piece of classic literature. He would even look aside, directly at Bashir when reading certain parts, just for the pure emphasis. Or perhaps checking his attention, or his reaction, whatever it might be.

By the time they got to June 16th , the doctor was comfortably lying back on the sofa with his long, long limbs all over the place. From the coffee table, which received one leg, to the floor which got another, and the backrest and the arm rest both welcoming each arm. Garak, on the other hand, kept his back arched and held his hands carrying the book high, right in front of the face. Quark and Odo observed this strange people puzzle from behind the bar, as they had nothing else to do.

“An angel! Nonsense! Everybody so describes his mistress; and yet I find it impossible to tell you how perfect she is, or why she is so perfect.” Garak exclaimed in the role and Julian kept staring at his calm face, almost feeling the intensity of the main character’s feelings. “suffice it to say she has captivated all my senses. So much simplicity with so much understanding—so mild, and yet so resolute—a mind so placid, and a life so active.” Garak looked up to catch the doctor gazing, and smiled. “Want to have a turn?”

The doctor shook his head and then placed it down on the backrest. “Go on.” He encouraged him quietly before his eyes started closing. “Not if I only serve as a bedtime story-teller.” Garak replied.

“By no means, Garak, you have my undivided attention.” He replied, eyes still closed peacefully. The reader observed the face for a while, and then resumed reading.

Two chapters later, when Bashir’s snack and coffee was gone, Garak paused, and checked on his companion. He was met by a warm brown eyed gaze. Garak then unconsciously watched the doctor’s lips part and speak up first. “What do you think about the book so far?” He asked. Garak thought momentarily about his answer.

“I do enjoy the style, and the epistolary form undoubtedly saves the story, in my opinion. Otherwise, the painfully pathetic personality of Werther is, I suppose, relatable to many, especially under the spell of the chemical madness we so graciously call love. Quite frustrating, in fact-”

Bashir’s laugh interrupted him. The reason of which seemingly escaped Garak as he regarded him with lifted eyebrows and lips parted in confusion.

“Pathetic, madness.” He proclaimed. “You sound like a type of man who doesn’t believe in love. Usually someone who never had the luck of experiencing it.” He challenged passionately.

“And you, my dear doctor, sound like someone who doesn’t know better than to call this phenomenon ‘luck’. Usually someone who never had his heart broken.” Garak countered with an easy smile.

“I’m starting to think you’re a pessimist, Garak. I wonder how that could possibly happen. Life is wide and full of wonderful things yet you sit here and tell me of broken hearts.” Julian now leaned closer with enthusiasm. “You see, when you meet love, you stop breathing and everything starts spinning around but you are just in the middle of things. You’re in the heart of a hurricane and there is calm and quiet. And you can only listen carefully to the voice of the other person who makes your life move in the most fantastic of ways, Garak!” He dropped back onto the sofa again, his cheeks burning. “It’s something you can’t let go of for the love of you.”

Garak, being quiet so far, now sighed and leaned against his corner of the couch. “My dear doctor. _You_ are a romantic. You should have warned me, if I’d known I would have kept my distance.” The stranger chuckled quietly. “I feel my arguments useless at this time, but do not worry, when I find a perfect reply, I shall use it in the most inappropriate of times.” His smile, like butter, melted on his wide face and Julian was left with a delighted expression printed on his caramel face and in his chestnut eyes.

“Do you… see the same thing as I do?” Quark, with his hands wrapped about his own mug of coffee, muttered in the air. Odo was still by the bar, now sitting on one of the bar stools and doing something on his tablet. Quark wouldn’t believe Odo stayed just for the sake of Quark’s company contrary to the coldness of the office. Perhaps, being nosy as he is, he also kept his eyes on the situation. Not that the doctor and the other guest even _noticed_ they weren’t the only ones in the room.

“That the doctor is in trouble? We knew that the moment he took up on the dubious game of that..creature.” He jerked his chin towards Garak’s obviously hungry smile and then shifted eyes at Bashir’s grossly sweet one. Quark just scoffed and sipped his coffee, reverting to his mobile phone to scroll news in business and auctions.

Meanwhile, as it was getting late, the pair over at the sofa concluded their session. They agreed on the same time next week and Bashir eventually took his bag and left. Garak was the second to leave and Odo subsequently retired to his office, having nothing to observe.

The doctor walked to his car at the rear parking lot, his mind still on this whole meeting – date – session, that is. As he started the engine and drove towards the exit of the station, he almost moved on to thinking about his tomorrow’s responsibilities instead. However, just before he branched off to the highway, he hit the brakes abruptly at seeing Garak at the edge of the road, freaking hitch-hiking. He lowered his window.

“Are you joking? Is it so hard to _ask?_ ” He sighed.

Garak smiled in return. “I would not dare bothering.”

“Please, just get in.” The doctor gave up, leaning over to open the passenger’s door.

“Thank you, that’s most kind of you.” He replied, as if this was the most unexpected gesture on the good doctor’s part. “It is also gratifying to know you are indeed not afraid of me anymore.” He added. At that, Julian turned his head at him slowly, smiling mysteriously.

“My dear Garak, I believe it is _me_ who is behind the steering wheel.”

“Doctor,” he breathed in excited surprise “so there is hope for you yet.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the team of Nine doesn't want to give up on their station so easily, a new guest, Weyoun, appears with an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter at last, to whoever follows this! Sorry for all the delay, I am hoping we can post more frequently throughout the summer, so far we are writing chapter 10 and I think stuff is getting more and more exciting! Feedback is very much appreciated!

As the morning woke up with Benjamin Sisko, his sigh and sullen forehead giving notice to the world that today will not be a good day. Today was the day he will pick up his son’s broken parts and put them together with the high-pitch voice of a father, having nothing else anymore. But first, a stop at the station, which in its time bought him happiness, regret and today, sorrow. For some unknown reason, today was worse than the last and he couldn’t figure out how that could be. Driving his red jeep in and out of town and finally, to his final destination, which might as well be his grave. The gas station.

The routine went: park, get out of car, walks across the gravel, search for keys, open doors, sigh. But today, today only, as he opened the unlocked door he saw dark figures through the windows and as he stepped inside, smelling the chlorine and dust, he saw them. Jadzia, one foot on the highest step of a ladder, the other one in air, balancing her balanced body 3 meters above the ground, swiping the dust off of lightbulbs. Miles, sitting on the ground with Rom, connecting wires to the coffee machine with sparks of electricity alerting them of progress. Nerys, vacuuming the carpets and mats, laughing with her fully-open mouth at Odo, jumping before the hoover, avoiding it, unsuccessfully. Quark, swearing out loud with his sticky fingers glued together in an attempt to varnish the bar. And Leeta, with her steady hands, screwing screws to the side of an IKEA chair while glancing over her shoulder at the manual, kept in Norwegian. Benjamin Sisko took a deep breath, and kept silent.

Normally, the dismissed personnel would have run on their notice period, however since the station is closed indefinitely, it was implied the staff would not continue to work and be paid as if on holiday. Yet, what Sisko saw was the Nine family again doing more than he and the station deserved while feeding his enormous guilt. The company could barely afford their last pay, clearly all the utilities went from their own pockets, too. Sisko was angry, with them – to make him angry with himself and with the whole situation. He didn’t know if to shout or burst in tears.

He cleared his throat then. “Kira- excuse me, Kira!” He approached the manager whose laugh just turned to smile when he approached and she switched the vacuum cleaner off to lower the noise. “Good morning, Benjamin.” She replied, instinctively distancing them from the rest for a bit of privacy. The owner just raised eyebrows, not even needing to word the question.

“They just came in this morning! All at once. Hard to blame them for the loyalty, Odo and I obviously didn’t have the heart to send them away. So we started a little renovation.” She shrugged shoulders, smiling.

“We can’t afford this! It’s really nice of them, I admit,” Ben said as he looked around his little family, then back to Kira, “but these people deserve real jobs, stable jobs to be able to feed their family, their loved ones. This isn’t fair towards anyone.” He whispered out loud, and Miles, being the closest to them, overheard. He thought of Keiko, who supported him in this little emotional outbreak, but bit her finger nails during breakfast over the late bills printed in her eyes with little Molly sitting on her lap. He knew that in some strange way, what he is doing right now, is selfish. Even though it feels as the most unselfish act he could do today. He got up and walked up to Sisko, even if he should say nothing, but in the end didn’t even do that. By that time Benjamin calmed down and a slight smile returned to his face. He grabbed bucket and went to get some of that mould off of those windows.

On the other side of the room Jadzia, who finally fixed up the lightbulbs, climbed down from the ceiling and hands on her hips, looked through the windows. At the sun coming up from behind the forest and the smell of a fresh pot of coffee reminded her of her own mornings as she was growing up. But then the memory shattered when remembering her oldest brother Curzon. She thought of him often past few days. Not that she saw him recently. But she thought of him and what he would say about Worf. Worf, who drove her home safely and who always made sure she got to wherever she was going, on time. Curzon won’t like him, she thought. He will say “He’s too old for you” and “You shouldn’t waste your time with someone who’s so fundamentally different from you, you will only cause him trouble”…

“Jadzia!” A shout from behind her sounded and it was no one else than Quark, handing her a cup of fresh coffee. “You seem distracted.” He noted, sitting on a backrest of the sofa. “Is anything wrong?”

Jadzia only smiled and took her double strong, double sweet espresso. “Nothing really. Just…thinking. Oh, and thank you. For the coffee. Are you not having any?”

“Oh you mean this black boiling water? No thanks.” He smirked and looked out of the window in the same direction she had before he interrupted.

Sisko, meanwhile asked Kira to kindly join him in the office for a little chat. Upon that, he asked the ‘ex’-staff to start packing this up, that he appreciated the gesture but he did imply it was not ideal for them to feel they have the autonomy to do this without consulting him, or one of the senior staff first.   
There was a strange, uncomfortable silence after they left for the office downstairs. Quark still stood side by side with Jadzia, quiet for a while. “You know a girl like you can find a job as easily as just smiling.” He tried to reassure her. She took a breath to reply but he continued. “And even if nothing works out, give me a shout, I am trying to run a small side business- I mean, not to come out sounding weird” he put his hands up in defence and they both chuckled.

Just when the situation started to settle, O’Brien stepped down from the ladder and Leeta started collecting the equipment, an undetected person quietly squeezed through the duct-taped entrance (which wasn’t repaired as of yet – new glass is expensive). Odo, being attentive (and the least busy at the moment) was the first one to notice the pair of unfamiliar, hopeful eyes scanning the room. He locked eyes with the security officer and suddenly warm confidence poured into them. A big, big smile spread on his face. “Can I help you?” Odo folded his arms, attracting attention of the rest of the ex-crew. The visitor bent his head slightly followed by his upper body - literally giving them a bow.

“Good afternoon, my name is Weyoun, the president of the Dominion Inc. It’s such a pleasure.” He straightened up and interlocked his fingers modestly in the front of him. Odo’s eyes sparkled with recognition of the name. “Dear people of Nine, I came here with an offer to make.”

“Sorry, we’re not interested. Now if you would kindly go-” Odo started saying but Weyoun made a big swooping gesture towards the security officer.

“Please.” His eyes begged and his mouth as wide as mouths go. “I happen to know that everyone in this room,” he gave everyone a quick glance before returning to the knight in the shining armour,  “does not hold the Dominion close to their heart yet still!” He now raised a finger and a buttery smile melted on his face as if in an acting class, “We are a company thriving on people’s best interests and good motives, because we are such people. The Dominion is not a corporation that seeks to destroy lives, but to bring new, modern and innovative solutions to any disputes. We ought to modernize our society and bring peace and happiness to all around! Of course, you can read that on our leaflet which I will happily leave just over here.”

“The reason we pursue to close down this highway is that it has proven to be costly, dangerous and frankly, unnecessary. But we do realize that people like your tiny little selves depend on this, so we, I, came down here to offer you a brand new strategic position in our company. Your skills will surely be valued more at a place where people look into the future, not the past.” He finished his monologue with a skilful hand-twist into his inner jacket pocket and getting a business card, pushing it into Odo’s palm.

The assistant manager didn’t move a muscle in response, making the situation a bit denser. Weyoun’s smile prevailed. “Have you, Mr. Weyoun, ever thought about pursuing acting?” He asked sarcastically but the visitor played along. “Why, no I have not.” He confessed, slightly confused, but then smiling again and instead he softly pushed the business card inside the front pocket of Odo’s short-sleeved shirt, right under that ‘Nine’ logo. “I believe my talents lie elsewhere.” He added, looking slightly up at Odo.

Everyone knowing Odo would say he was a patient, calm and reasonable man. He does not tend to lose his temper unless provoked by things such as Quark’s ugly, victorious smirk. It seemed as though there was something similarly provoking in this Weyoun. Maybe it was for he was the face of the Dominion itself, which is responsible for the station’s significant problem. Perhaps it was the smug smile and confidence. And the fact was, these days weren’t ones of Odo’s best either. Indeed, he did not pick the right time at all.

“Listen, Mr. _Weyoun,_ your monologue was touching and well-practiced, but nobody here buys your little family comedy performance, so I recommend you get back to your polished car, set course to your corrupt corporation and pray that your boss gives you another chance at your monthly bonus.” He pulled the business card out, stepped a little closer and tore it in front of the business man’s eyes.

At normal circumstances, Weyoun would laugh and strike back in a friendly and witty manner. However, for some reason now, he only shivered in response. That man had quite a temper, he thought, what is more, he seemed to be completely immune to manipulation. It isn’t often that Weyoun feels vulnerable to other people, and yet the thought excited him. After a while of silence, completely forgetting there were other people in the room, he replied, almost perfectly believably. “You don’t know how much it pains me to hear you say that.”

“Oh, calm down over there, Odo.” Quark raised both his hands and he stepped closer to the notorious duo. “As a man of many talents and open to all suggestions,” he threw a bold glance in Odo’s direction as he turned on his heel and landed between them two, “I might consider this solid offer. Say, what can you propose in a way of financial matters, Mr. Weyoun?” Quark took him by the shoulders and the man laughed with his head bent backwards.

“And you might be?” They made a little circle as if dancing and stepped right in front of Odo’s puffy face.

“Quark!!” Odo’s voice thundered throughout the station as he folded his arms strictly on his chest.

“Let-Let me talk, Odo.” Quark lifted a finger in his face as he turned to Weyoun again, still holding his shoulders. “Let the business men talk, alright.”

“Ha-haa!” Weyoun laughed loudly and Quark joined with his briskly snicker.

“The best part?” Quark announced heartily. “I also have a brother who would be excellent as a down-to-Earth kind of worker, you know, on the field? Or anything really. And my nephew is the same case! You must understand, I need to take care of my family as well, you understand. Don’t you?” His short teeth bit the air.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t.” Weyoun lifted Quark’s dry hand off of his new jacket and let it fall down. “And however…intriguing as that sounds, you, my dear,” Not remembering Quark’s name Weyoun only gesticulated in the air “are not exactly the kind of material we are looking for. Dominion wants to give everyone a chance, yes, of course! Still, we do not accept raw material just as it is, you must understand! As a,” another vague gesticulation, “businessman yourself.” A gentle smile melted on his pursed lips.

“Anywho!” Weyoun jumped forwards, far away from Quark and towards Odo. “But you, you are very much the Dominion material. Trust me, you would be very cherished among my people. We would take a very good care of you.” With that, and his first and last turn of heel, he disappeared from the station as if that moment never happened.

Everyone was left staring at the entrance in trance, not able to move. At last, Rom came over with a soft punch in his brother’s upper arm. “Idiot!” He said half-nervously.

“Auch! That hurts, you know?” Quark shouted after him, while massaging his arm and checking Odo’s reacting. But Odo’s gaze was still stuck on that same spot and as he casually reached into his trouser pockets, he found another business card, identical to the one he shattered few minutes ago.

“Can you believe that guy? A little arrogant, isn’t he?” Jadzia, who has been watching the situation with slightly distasteful enjoyment of a drama, finally came forward to stand next to Quark. “Who does he think he is?” She added, unconsciously nibbling at the skin around her nail as the gentle sound of engine sounded outside, fading.

“A filthy rich and powerful son of a…Dominion, is who he is.” Quark crossed his arms, both being offended and respectful of iconic negotiating skills. At that, Leeta dramatically joined the conversations by emerging behind Rom and putting palms on his shoulders. He shivered. “I can’t believe you even considered his offer!” She shouted at Quark. “And what was it, trying to sell off Rom and Nog like that?! This is not 18th century, you, you know what Quark, I disagree with him, I think you would be just _perfect_ for his company, you’re just as spineless and spoiled as he is!” She scolded, with Rom faintly agreeing with her while still blushing at her touch.

Before this conversation became even more heated (just according to Weyoun’s plan) and O’Brien would manage to get involved and probably get shouted at, Kira and Sisko entered the room at hearing increasing noise. “What is this?!” Kira was the first one to ask on impulse, before Sisko even absorbed the situation. There was a while of silence as nobody quite knew what to say, as if they were afraid they wouldn’t believe them.

“Dominion just paid us a visit.” Odo finally said, matter-of-fact.

“What!” Kira reacted, again before Sisko opened his mouth and so he just sighed, letting her talk.

 

“Ugh! I can’t believe this! Just waltz in here, thinking they own the place! Incredible how some people juuust can’t let go.” Nerys angrily sat down with heavy breath and looked up at Odo, still standing still by the door. “Well say something!”

Odo now cleared his throat and stepped closer. “Yes, I agree. I am very curious about what business they have here anyway.”

“Exactly!” Kira pointed at him, her legs stretched far.

“No, I mean-”

“You know, it doesn’t matter.” She now stood up again and brushed her fingers through her short hair. “None of this matters. Oh God, I feel like everything is falling apart. We can’t afford our staff, we can’t pay for the renovation; ever since the accident we had no customers at all, not that half the systems are working! This is just, ugh, little bit too much.” Nerys breathed heavily.

“Maybe you should lie down for a while.” Odo now suggested, opening the door for himself. “I’ll get you a glass of water, just stay here.”

“Do you want to have dinner?” Kira now stood very still, in her tall heels and her hand on her hip. This struck Odo like a lightning, and he almost didn’t turn around but then he did.

“Dinner?” He swallowed.

“Well, you do eat. I’ve seen you.” She gave him her big teethy smile and her heart beat started to go down now.

“Well-” Odo now turned back to the exit once more, almost to escape this situation, but from all good reasons. He always had only good reasons to do bad decisions.

“I’ll cook.” Nerys continued when he didn’t. “What do you say?”

Odo felt so vulnerable to the situation. Quark sometimes made fun of him for this; how Odo can deal with chaos and disorder and all kind of stress, he's immune to manipulation and his problem-solving and improvisation is impeccable but once he's put in front of a woman he cares about, he is utterly helpless. He knew he can't avoid it, especially if this is what he wants and what even _Kira_ seems to want. If not for himself, he will overcome this for her. He gave her a small nod and even a smile, at least he hoped it resembled a smile.

"I would like that." He said softly, secretly clutching his fists tighter to relieve tension.  All kinds of thoughts and doubts were running through his head but he shot them down one by one. He thought he would say more, but he didn't. He left the office, eyeing a customer who browsed the oil and polish rack, and another one, from the same one car, processing their payment at the again smiling Leeta. Quark, from the other side of the room smirked at Odo curiously when seeing his concerned face. At least some things were getting back to normal. He snorted quietly, heading to help O'Brien with the rest of cleaning up.


End file.
